


Domestication

by apollaskywalker



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Jewish Character(s), Kabbalah, PTSD, fluff when possible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2020-04-06 03:38:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19054474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollaskywalker/pseuds/apollaskywalker
Summary: Dante's mission against Urizen is his longest job yet. His absence takes a toll on his family but when he returns with Vergil, he knows his family is his best bet to rehabilitate Vergil.It will earn its rating in later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t unusual for Dante to be on a job for a few weeks. He didn’t get paid by the hour, so it wasn’t because he wanted to make more money, it just took time. First he had to get to the location, then he had to actually deal with whatever had infested the place. So she hadn’t even bothered to try to get in touch with Morrison until the third week started.

On the phone, Morrison had quickly said he didn’t have any updates and he wouldn’t know when he’d get any. Then he rattled off Nero’s number and told her to call him. He hung up without even asking if the kids were excited for summer vacation – or even a message to say hi to them. His tone had bothered her, but the latter concerned her. Morrison _always_ asked about the kids.

Nero answered the phone with a calm, “Devil May Cry.” His tone confused her – Morrison seemed evasive but Nero sounded as though everything was all right. Was Morrison ill? In trouble? If so, why hadn’t he reached out for help or said something?

“Hi, Nero, it’s Sayari.”

There was a long pause on the other end.

“Nero? Are you there?”

“Yeah, hi, uh…Nico’s not the greatest driver-“

“I drive perfectly well in this hellhole and you know it.” Nico’s voice was clearly audible, so Sayari had to give Nero credit for not giving her the lie about a bad connection.

“You’re probably calling about Dante…”

“Nero. What’s happened?”

Again, another pause.

“Nero. Would you like to lose another arm?” It wasn’t a real threat and they both knew it. She hoped it would make him laugh. It didn’t.

“It’s…hard to say. We don’t know _where_ he is. Urizen kicked our asses – all of our asses. V and I got out but –“

“Who is V?” Sayari tried to recall the details of the job that Dante had left on her voicemail. All she could remember was that he’d said it was in Redgrave City. The client, he’d said, was some goth twink but he paid well. And that was it for what she remembered.

“The client. He’s an interesting guy, if a bit of a pessimist. Dante told us to go,” Nero’s voice took a rougher turn, as if he was angry. “And we haven’t seen him since. We’re looking for him,” Nero added the last quickly. “He’s gonna be fine, Sayari, I promise. We’ll get him back to you.” 

Now it was her turn to pause. “Sayari? You ok?”

“When did this happen.”

“May 16th,” Nero answered.

“And you didn’t think to call me then? You didn’t think to call me since then?”

Nero said nothing. There was nothing he could say. She knew all the excuses he could ever give her – that he didn’t want to hurt her, that he didn’t want to worry her, that he didn’t think it would take this long, that he wanted to do it in person, on and on ad nauseam until the only real excuse was spoken: he was afraid.

The first time she’d met Nero, she’d felt his admiration for Dante. Since then, she’d heard his thoughts that merely continued along that line. He believed Dante was indestructible – a feeling she’d often shared.

“Call me tomorrow with updates. You call me every day, Nero.”

According to the sages, demons were like angels in three ways and like humans in three. Like angels they had wings. Sayari could attest to that, having seen Dante’s demon form, his wings hovering over the twins as they splashed through puddles in the rain. They were able to go between realms - seemed accurate. They were also supposed to know the future, although Sayari had seen that as limited. A few demons they’d crossed paths with had known. Most, though, seemed in denial or ignorant. Dante certainly didn’t know the future.

Like men, they ate and drank. And boy could Dante eat. He didn’t eat _well_ , and the arguments with the kids of “dad eats like this” provided a staple of mealtime debate. They also had children. Dante, his brother, Nero, and now the twins proved that. She’d never asked about other demons’ demonic children. It wasn’t her business and she didn’t really care.

And like men, they could die.

This knowledge returned to her that night after she tucked Hallie and Sparda into bed. They had their story and snacks but she knew they would be up for a while longer.

They were waiting for Dante.

Like men, they could die.

He’d been shot. He’d been impaled. She knew all this and thought him indestructible but now he’d scared Nero.

And he was frightening her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Each day, Nero called with an update. Sometimes he had to pass the phone to Nico so he could go take care of some demons. Nico would either pick up where he left off or just tell her there were no real updates on Dante. But she could – and would – give details regarding what they had done that day (Nero’s kill count, observations about the city and the demons, whatever new arm Nico was working on, etc.) And Sayari didn’t mind those updates. Unlike Nero, Nico had an easy honesty to her, she didn’t fumble around and try to sugarcoat the lack of information. “No, nothin’ new, but we’re still lookin’,” Nico would say whereas Nero would give a long winded, “Well, we’re nowhere near where Urizen was and it’s going to take some time to get to him – pretty well guarded now that he’s more of a permanent feature of the place. So no sign of him yet, but we don’t expect him here.” 

Truthfully, Sayari preferred talking to Nico. The apology in Nero’s voice, the shame, the burning sense of crumbling self-esteem leaked through the phone. It didn’t matter that she’d told him several times that she didn’t blame him for what had happened. That this wasn’t his fault – on and on, it never filled that insecurity.

At work, Sayari listened to briefings, made requests for information, and monitored the situation in Redgrave City. Government access meant details from the army and satellites the news didn’t have. Some of that information she passed along to Nico and Nero. Technically that was illegal, but she used enough vagueness that a jury might find plausible deniability. Telling them she had a bad feeling about a bridge wasn’t the same as telling them the army had shattered it in hopes of keeping the demons at bay.

Finally, in the middle of June, the kids outside with their squirt guns while she finished up summer camp paperwork, Nico called. “V found Dante! He, Nero, and V are headed to the top of the Qliphoth to get Urizen. Should be over soon now!”

Sayari let out a sigh of relief. Then she paused. “Top of the what?”

“Qliphoth. Some tree that grows in the Underworld, or so V says.”

“…Nico, that’s Kabbalah.”

“What?”

“Kabbalah - Jewish mysticism – the Tree of Life’s opposite is the Qliphoth. It’s a tree of death – or well, actually, it’s from the Hebrew word meaning ‘shell’ or ‘husk’ and it’s an inverse of - never mind, have him call me when he gets back.”

She ended the call and finished filling out the emergency contact forms for the kids.

Hours later, the phone woke her up. Seeing the number on the caller ID, Sayari brightened and answered it. “Dante,” she breathed.

“Uhhhh, it’s Nero.”

Irritated, Sayari asked him why Dante wasn’t on the other end. There really wasn’t a good excuse. He should have used the bathroom before calling. If he needed to eat, he could eat while they talked, it wasn’t like they hadn’t done that a million times.

“uhh…” Nero took a breath. “He’s with Vergil in the Underworld.”

Vergil?

What little Sayari knew of Vergil came mostly from Dante’s nightmares and memories. He rarely spoke of him, and when he did, it was with longing and agony. There was anger there, always, but it alternated between anger at Vergil and anger at himself. When he thought of Mundus and Vergil – of Nelo Angelo, it was a furious bout of self-hatred. How had he been unable to see through the demonic guise that held his brother? How had he not fought, not to destroy, but to save him? He’d let Vergil remain in the Underworld, he’d let him fall, and then he was responsible for his demise.

But Vergil was always past tense. What _had_ been, what _was_ , what _had been_ lost, what had been _done_. There was no future with Vergil, much less a _present_.

Which meant only one thing if Dante was with him…

“Vergil’s dead,” Sayari whispered.

“No, not actually. See, V – the client – was actually…half Vergil? It’s complicated. Urizen was the other half. They…combined and –“ 

“Nero. _Where_ is Dante?” She asked where when what she really meant was ‘how’.

“With Vergil. In the Underworld. They stayed to close the portal, someone had to do it and it could only be done from that side –“

“This isn’t funny, Nero. Put Dante on the phone.”

“I _can’t_. He’s not here. He’s trapped in the Underworld –“

“Enough! If you can’t tell me he’s –“ she choked. “If you can’t tell me what really happened, put Nico on the phone. Or call me when you can tell me the truth.”

“I am! Look, the Qliphoth needed to be cut down from the root, the only way to do that –“

Sayari hung up. Her hands shook.

Suddenly overcome with the need to move, she jumped out of bed and approached the wardrobe. Whenever Dante went to work or she had to leave for a trip, she would make him wear a few shirts so they would have his scent. She took out his shirt and almost traded it for her pajama top. But then she just ended up holding it against her chest as she left the bedroom to go check on the kids.

Sparda was sprawled on top of his covers, arms and legs spread like he was making a snow angel of his bedspread. Near his left foot, his stuffed red fox lay face down. He’d made that at a trip to Build-a-Bear with Nero and Kyrie two years ago but it was still his favorite stuffed animal.

Hallie had the tendency to turn her bedding into a cocoon, even during the summer. Her shock of white hair was the only visible indication that it was her and not a pile of blankets and pillows. Her collection of miniature plastic animals was arranged in the same manner as they always were when Dante left. They’d compared it once, there was an arrangement for when Dante was away and one for when Sayari was gone. She’d done it since she got the animals back when she was about four. Once, Sayari had moved them while gathering laundry and Hallie had a meltdown. It was only when she calmed down that Sayari realized it was her way of keeping her parents safe.

Kids engage in magical thinking, she had read and been told. But for her children, it made greater sense. There were wards on the house, magic wasn’t “silly” or just for kids. There was a witch down a few streets from the Devil May Cry office who had a love-hate relationship with Dante. He’d killed a demon in her apartment building without even asking for payment, so she gave him free herbs and charms while also waving sage around him. He took it in good measure.

Sayari closed the door and wondered what, if anything, she should tell the kids.


	2. Chapter 2

The phone at the Devil May Cry office didn’t ring. She was immediately met with the recorded message that the number was unavailable and she should try again. She hung up and poured herself a cup of coffee.

Sparda shook the cardboard box that had once held cereal. “We’re out. Finally. _Baruch Hashem_ ,” he tossed the box into the recycle bin. “Now we can get more codes!”

Sayari sat down at the table and added her sugar and cream. Her son daydreamed about finally having enough codes to get the latest character to the Sugar Cruncher game. Hallie stirred her yogurt and thought of camp.

Sayari’s toast popped and she went to fix her own breakfast. She had called in to work before the kids got up to tell them she wouldn’t be in. She’d given the excuse of the day camp finally allowing her to do some much-needed errands, but truthfully, she’d purchased a train ticket so she could go up to Dante’s office. The office was about an hour away by train – which delighted Dante. When she’d purchased the house, he’d wanted distance between his work and their home as a form of protection. His childhood home’s destruction had weighed heavily on his mind as they decided to live together. He also made his work look like a bachelor pad with pictures of women in risqué poses (which he took down whenever the kids came over). She’d commented once that it was unprofessional and got the response:

“Babe. I’m _not_ a professional. I kill _demons_. If you want my services, you’re not checkin’ Yelp reviews.”

He had a point.

After her own breakfast, she went to finish her makeup, leaving the kids to put away their dishes and get their backpacks down for camp.

Hallie rinsed her spoon before sticking it in the dishwasher and when the phone rang, she answered it. Normally she didn’t as phone calls were usually from her mom’s work and would just require her to tell the other person to wait while she got her mom. But the caller ID showed Nero’s number. “Hi Nero!” she said happily.

Sparda shoveled the last bite of cereal into his mouth and bolted over to the phone. Hallie twisted away, almost dropping the phone. “Is your mom there?” she heard Nero ask.

“Just a second,” Hallie muttered, pushing Sparda away. “Wait your turn!” she snapped at her brother. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Is your mom there?”

“She’s doing her makeup,” Hallie told him. “Is dad with you? Can I talk to him? Not that I don’t want to talk to you but it’s been over a month. It’s summer!”

“I know, I’m sorry, but he’s not here –“

Sparda lunged for the phone and Hallie tried to push him away with her foot against his stomach. Unfortunately, she lost her balance and fell over, dropping the phone. Sparda seized it.  “Dad? Dad, it’s me!” 

“MOM!” Hallie yelled. “You’re such a jerk, Spar!”

Sparda stuck out his tongue.

“Where’s your mom?” Nero asked, his voice barely audible as Sparda tossed the phone to keep it out of his sister’s hands. He caught it as it came down and put it up to his ear. “What?”

Sayari grabbed the phone out of her son’s hand, startling both kids. “Hello?”

“Sayari? Finally.” 

“Nero, now’s not a good time. So unless what you have to say can be said in five minutes and have no repercussions, can you call back later?”

“Ask where dad is!” Sparda yelled. Sayari held up a finger to silence him. Nero agreed to call back later and she hung up. “You didn’t ask where dad is,” Sparda chastised her.

“Neither of you should answer the phone unless you’re asked to do so. But if you do answer the phone and it’s Nero, Kyrie, Lady, or Trish or someone you both want to talk to, don’t fight. There’s this button here,” she showed the button to them, “that puts the phone on speaker mode so you can both be on the call. Now, I believe you two have something to say to each other.”

Hallie looked at her brother. “I’m sorry I kicked you.”

“I’m sorry you fell over.”

“Mom!” Hallie protested.

At a look, Sparda amended. “I’m sorry I bothered you on the phone.”

It wasn’t ideal parenting, Sayari had to admit. Sure, they apologized, but neither really meant it. She hadn’t even really scolded them or did much discipline, but she just lacked the energy. Besides, it would soon be forgotten.

Indeed, by the time they had made it half way to camp, it was forgotten. Instead they were wondering if they’d have to retake the swimming test or if passing it last year counted. Neither of them thought it would be fair if they had to retake it.

“Try not to scare anyone,” Sayari reminded them. “You’re there to have fun, not get into the Guinness Book of World Records or on the news.”

“I still say I can hold my breath longer than you,” Hallie whispered, as if her mom couldn’t hear the thought before it came out of Hallie’s mouth.

“That’s something to find out in our pool, not at camp.”

Eventually, they arrived and she parked in the crowded lot. Kids of all elementary ages were in the lot, some trying to run away to meet friends, others clinging to their parents in tears. The lot was a cacophony of thoughts. Emotions ran high some parents just barely holding back their anger, moms of younger ones near anxiety – 

Sayari took a breath to steel herself and unlocked the doors. Her kids grabbed their packs and immediately thought they were too heavy, that surely they didn’t need all of what she had made them pack. “Let’s get you checked in,” Sayari tightened her hands into fists, nervously checking that her gloves were on – but they always were once she left the house.

Sensing her discomfort, Sparda assumed the lead, bumping into people who didn’t automatically step back once they heard the “excuse me”. Those he bumped into either apologized or looked at him with annoyance, thinking that he needed better parenting. Hallie held onto her mom’s skirt, her thoughts on running interference. If someone looked like they would step too close, she’d get between them and her mom.

Near to the check in tables, things neared a more orderly state and the kids wandered about her and each other but without focus. Their attentions shifted as they looked for friends, indicated they recognized campers from previous years, counselors they knew, equipment that piqued their interest, and on and on.

Once the check-in was done, Sayari hugged and kissed them goodbye. “I’ll see you later,” she promised.

“Will dad be with you?” Sparda asked. He thought of the phone call from Nero and Sayari’s heart skipped a few beats.

“I don’t think so, love. It’s been a tough job.”

Sparda nodded and his face remained neutral but both kids were crushed.

“Will you be ok?” Hallie asked, thinking of the return walk to the parking lot.

Sayari smiled. “Remember, I’m old. I’ve been surviving crowds since before you were born, but thank you. You two have fun!”

In the car, she cried a little. Another mom knocked on her window and held up a pack of tissues. Politely, Sayari rolled down the window. “First year?” the mom asked, thinking of how difficult it was for her.

“No, just…never really gets easier,” Sayari lied. She thanked the mom and then drove off to the train station.

 

* * *

 

 

The door to Devil May Cry was unlocked, like usual. It used to bother her. They’d gotten into silly arguments over it. She would insist that someone could steal something and he’d reply there was nothing to steal. She’d mention any one of his weapons and he’d laugh. “The only weapons I care about are unique and easily identifiable. And my guns would need to be modified for human use. It would be easy to track them down and get them back.”

Then she’d pointed out the pictures in his bedroom. “You promised me you’d keep those to yourself.” She might not be famous like a princess or an actress, but a diplomat’s boudoir photos leaked to the press would cause a scandal. It wouldn’t matter that they were stolen, it would be enough. And then it would be in every intelligence file from the FSB to MI6 to China’s MSS.

“Yup, I’ve got those tucked away under charms.”

Everything else, he insisted, was replaceable or not likely to be stolen.

“What about when I’m here?” later she’d ask about the kids.

“You’re protected,” he said simply. He meant the wards, which she’d thought only applied to non-human forces, but in that moment she’d learned it applied to anyone wishing to harm them.

She opened the door with an odd feeling of comfort. If it had been locked, it would have been another sign that what Nero hadn’t said was what she feared.

She flicked the lights on as well as the fan. The stale, stagnant air slowly began to move as the fan lazily rotated. The place had been swept and cleaned up, which made Sayari remember Patty’s call in which she’d mentioned she’d stopped by the shop. The mail was stacked neatly on Dante’s desk and she began to riffle through it.

There were his magazines, of course. The kids watched him read magazines and so of course they’d had to get their own. Dante read books too, but magazines were kept at the shop. Lady had encountered a book at the house and asked Sayari what it was about. Sayari shrugged, “Dante’s reading it, not me,” she told her. Lady had been shocked. When asked, Dante shrugged dismissively. Magazines were shorter than books, so if someone came in, he didn’t feel bad tossing it aside.

And then, tucked away, unspoken - a thought unlike all the thoughts depicted in books and movies about telepaths because it wasn’t a clear _sentence_ \- the greater truth: books were associated with home and with Vergil.

She saw it in pictures – young Vergil with books, Eva with books. She felt it, that homesickness, the loss. And then she saw herself in his mind, reading, and there was a sense of home, of completion.

Aside from the magazines, there were bills. Many of them were marked with red ink of FINAL NOTICE and PAST DUE. She sorted them, putting them in order with the newest on top. Once that was done, she opened the newest bill and studied it. It was for the past month, due soon but not past due. Should she pay it? She wondered.

When it came to Dante’s business, legally Sayari had nothing to do with it. There were specific set ups Sayari had asked her personal lawyer to come up with. Dante’s business finances weren’t her concern and she knew that but ought she pay this bill? He might have the money and just not be in town to pay it. 

Or he might be gone, truly gone – for which this affected her not at all. She wouldn’t even need to hear Dante’s complaints, mental or verbal. 

She slipped the bill into her purse.

His desk drawers held old magazines, expired coupons for pizza, rounds of ammo, assorted pens, a set of keys, and other random junk. 

She looked over at the picture of Eva and picked it up. _Was this what it was like when Sparda disappeared? Did you wonder if he was dead? Did someone tell you he was trapped in the Underworld? How did you cope? Two half-devils are much more than two quarter-devils._ Sayari wished Dante’s mother was there to help her.

Sayari flipped over the picture frame and opened it. Tucked behind Eva’s picture was a family photograph. They’d had it taken when they visited Nero and Kyrie in Fortuna. There were six of them in the picture – herself, Dante, Nero, Kyrie, the twins. It was a goal of theirs to get everyone in a picture, including Morrison, Lady, Trish, and Patty. Sayari returned the photos to their rightful place and went upstairs.

Upstairs was like the downstairs – nothing unusual. The sheets definitely needed to be changed, the bathroom could stand a good cleaning, and all of it could use some dusting/vacuuming.

A few stairs down, she realized there was someone else in the building. Thoughts were like voices, sometimes they were muffled and distorted, but identifiable as voices. Any living person gave off some form of thought noise – sometimes though it was only there as a background sound, like the hum of fluorescent lights or a fan.

As the thought-static turned into more understandable thoughts. _Don’t want to do this._

_That check better go through._

_Fuck you, Dante. She’s gonna hate this._ I _hate it. You couldn’t have asked someone else?_

Morrison. She opened the door at the bottom of the stairs. “Hello, Morrison,” she greeted him warmly, though wary.

“Sayari,” he stubbed out his cigar. “Kelly noticed the activity in the building.”

She saw the phone in his mind, heard Kelly’s mention of charms. “I didn’t realize she monitored the place.”

“Given the difficulty of the mission, she put them up out of curiosity.”

“I see. Any other activity aside from me?”

“Just the usual mail deliveries.” Morrison took out a fresh cigar and cut the end. _Fuck. Just come out with it._ He lit the cigar. 

“You have something you want to tell me.”

A letter. A deed. She could see Dante handing them over and Morrison accepting them. _In case I don’t come back._

_You always come back. Is this about the demon who killed your mother?  
_

_Connected._

_Why are you making me do this? You too big of a coward to do it yourself?_

_Maybe._

_Damn it._

“Are they both for me?” she asked.

_I’m sure Lady and Trish’ll want the place. Do with it as you want._

“The letter then,” she held out her hand before he could respond. People’s memories took time to transcribe into journals and play out on TV but mentally they could be near instantaneous. Television quality replay was for the audience, the mind didn't need all that time for what it already knew.

Morrison took it out of his jacket pocket. “Look, for what it’s worth –“ 

_He’s buying time but…it doesn’t look good_.

Whose voice was that? Sayari wondered. She didn’t know the man who spoke.

_This can’t be happening. Dante lost?_

Lost. Trapped in the Underworld.

Now the letter was in her hand and she could read her own name in Dante’s handwriting.

“I still think he’ll be back.” 

He meant it. Somewhat. He hoped, she could feel his hope but anger bubbled inside her.

“None of you called me. _None_ of you. You had this – you had this _and_ the deed to the shop for over a month now and you didn’t call me!”

“Sayari-“

“Shut up. You didn’t want to talk before, so why don’t you keep that up? I don’t want to hear it. Goodbye, Morrison.” She nearly crumpled the letter as she stormed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Baruch Hashem" - Hebrew meaning "Bless God", used sort of like "thank God".


	3. Chapter 3

Nero didn’t call that night.

Or the next.

The kids went to camp and Sayari went to work. The letter from Dante stayed in her purse. She wasn’t ready to read it.

Thursday evening, they drove back from camp. Hallie appeared to be reading Sideways Stories but actually was thinking about asking for tacos for supper. Sparda alternated between watching raindrops race each other and wanting chicken nuggets. Maybe they could have chicken tacos, it would be a compromise.

As they approached the drive, Sayari noticed a rental car parked. Sparda leaned forward, “Is that dad?” he asked.

“That’s not any vehicle dad would take,” Hallie shook her head.

“It’s Nero and Kyrie,” Sayari recognized them. The kids cheered and Sparda suggested they get takeout. Hallie wondered why Nero was there if Dante wasn’t.

Sayari parked and the kids hurried out to go give hugs. Sayari opened her umbrella and told the kids to get their packs. “Come on,” she waved to Kyrie, inviting her under the umbrella as they made their way to the front door. Kyrie ducked under the umbrella and carefully avoided touching any of Sayari’s exposed skin as they stood together and Sayari unlocked the front door.

Concern, love, and slight resentment wafted from Kyrie’s mind, though she did her best to keep her thoughts blank.

Nero and the kids brought up the rear, the kids gawking over Nero’s arm. “Mom! Nero has a _new_ arm!” Hallie informed her while they entered the house.

“Yeah, he’s like a salamander!” Sparda confirmed. They all removed their shoes and hung up backpacks.

Nero glanced at Sayari, thinking about how best to approach this task. He wanted the kids out of the room.

“Keep your shoes on, kids,” Sayari opened her purse and took out her wallet. “Why don’t you and Kyrie go into town and get us some food? You can pick the restaurant.” Kyrie looked at her with slight panic thinking about the car and Nero stared at Sayari, mentally shouting _SHE CAN’T DRIVE_. “I’ll call you a cab. While you wait, the kids can put their wet swimsuits and towels up to dry.”

That solved their tension and Sayari went to the phone to make the call. She had to dig out a phone book as well, she didn’t know the cab number off the top of her head. Nero followed her and Kryie coaxed the kids into taking their things up and then showing her things she hadn’t seen since Passover.

“Thanks for that,” Nero looked at the artwork and calendar hanging on the fridge. He meant the distraction that would allow them to conduct their business, but his apprehension bubbled at the edge.

“Let’s see your new hand,” Sayari nodded at his right hand. Nero held it out for her inspection. She could tell from his thoughts that it was his own, not an incredibly life-like prosthetic. He recalled its regrowth and she felt the warm tingling, a phantom of his own experience. It wasn’t an unpleasant tingle like a limb falling asleep but a pleasant one.

_I’m not letting you die!_

She retrieved a few cups from the cupboard. He had yelled it then meaning Dante.

“Sorry,” Nero leaned against the counter. “I – well, it would be easier if – “ _if you just did your mind trick_. “I mean it, though. He is alive. He told me to tell you he loves you. And Hallie and Sparda.”

She nearly dropped a glass and Nero reacted, leaning over to catch it, but she caught it herself. “But I don’t think he meant it like forever – well, he loves you forever, of course but –“ _shit, stop being so dumb and just say it._

“I know what you mean,” she opened the fridge and took out some juice to fill the glasses. 

The kids returned with Kyrie. Hallie and Kyrie discussed Hallie’s latest art project which was really just her experimenting with what happened if she painted over different powders. So far she’d used baking soda, baking powder, salt (kosher, Himalayan pink, and table salt), concealer, and sand. Kyrie suggested she try spices.

Sparda strode over to Nero, an old magazine that had a short article about salamander limb regeneration, and showed it to Nero.  “See? You’re like a salamander.”

Nero thought of Nico’s comment that he was like a lizard. 

“But what happened to your old arm?” Sparda asked, turning the page, which featured a puzzle that he’d half completed. “Does this one glow?”

“Lost it at the start of this mission and no, this one’s just a regular one.” Nero accepted a glass of juice.

Kyrie thanked Sayari and the wafting concern and hope in Kyrie’s mind was cloyingly sweet. It felt like pity, which was an emotion no one wanted. The resentment stirred but was pushed down, Kyrie thought: _not her fault. I’d be upset too._

Kyrie asked about the flowers out front and if they would grow well in Fortuna. She pictured a large garden with vines twisting around arches.

“Kyrie wants to add a rooftop garden,” Nero informed the kids. This didn’t interest them, but they nodded politely.

Sayari admitted she didn’t know, Patty had sent them for Mother’s Day and she’d just transplanted them. She asked a bit about Kyrie’s garden, about the structure she had in mind. “Sounds like a wedding destination,” she commented.

“It would be nicer to have tourists for weddings as opposed to paranormal researchers.” The ripple of tension in Kyrie did not escape Nero’s notice. He didn’t say anything, but he watched her with a judging eye. Sayari knew that several researchers had somehow learned of Kyrie’s connection to the Savior incident and hounded her for interviews. Since Sayari hadn’t met the researchers, she wasn’t sure how they’d learned, but she had a few guesses. With the collapse of the Order, as with any cult, former devotees found ways to deal or not deal with the loss. Some probably mentioned it to the tourists or her name had been mentioned a few times as a witness to some of the events. Hardly anyone knew that Kyrie had been in the heart of the Savior, but Nero and Dante’s involvement hadn’t been missed by the residents. Connecting the dots wouldn’t take a great sleuth. “And we already own the building, this way we wouldn’t have to buy land and do landscaping.”

“Taxi’s here,” Sparda observed.

In under two minutes it was just Sayari and Nero. “All right, let’s get this over with,” Nero held out his hand.

“You say that like it’s going to be worse for you,” she shook her head. “And you can put your arm down.” He did so and she gestured for him to follow her, taking her own glass of juice and a package of crackers. She led him to the living room and sat down on the couch. Nero followed suit. After setting her glass and crackers down, she removed her gloves.

“You’re going to be in my head.” Nero worried about what she would see, things he’d prefer to keep private – things she largely knew already. She’d heard his thoughts about Kyrie often enough. She knew they’d had sex. She knew he’d lasted all of three minutes the first time because he’d been so nervous and he’d worried about what Kyrie thought of his quick finish. Kyrie had been somewhat disappointed but understanding, she’d been nervous too.

Sayari also knew how often Nero had wished Dante would turn out to be his father. That one day Dante would admit it, even though it wasn’t the case.

“I’m not a voyeur, Nero.” It would have been easier being telepathic if she were even slightly voyeuristic. “And this was one of the first things I learned to control, that’s why I need to touch your face, not your hands. It’s not impossible to do this just by touching you, but it’s sort of like unlocking a door.” That wasn’t accurate and he wasn’t understanding. “No, sorry…it’s like seeing your favorite dessert but only letting yourself have it after dinner or saving it for a party. You can have it any time, but you don’t.”

Nero swallowed and thought about how Dante had reacted when he’d first experienced this. “All right,” he said again. “I’m ready.”

Sayari placed her right hand against Nero’s cheek.

_The pain. The searing agony. “You a demon?”_

_Heavy breathing. “I’m taking this back.” A rush, two slices of Yamato opening a rift, blue tinged fire opening black nothingness._

_Kyrie’s worried face, “Hold on, Nero, the ambulance is coming. I’m right here. I love you.”_

_A tall dark man with swirling tattoos. A book – leather bound, a gold V embossed on the cover. “Call me V.”  
_

_“V! Get Nero out of here! This was a bad move!”_

_Rage, pain, self-hatred, humiliation. “I can still fight!”_

_“Nero, go! You’re just deadweight!”_

_The struggle to get back – he wasn’t deadweight. Hadn’t he proven himself before? Hundreds of times over?  
_

_“Stop hitting yourself and think of ways to get stronger and actually help. If Dante loses, you are all that can defeat Urizen.”_

_A resolution. A promise. He would find Dante. He would kill Urizen and prove himself._

_Demons. Demons with wings, demons with more mouths than they likely needed. Blood and ichor and destruction._

_Roots, plant stems,_

_“I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe, that made my love so high and me so low.”_

_A large black and purple panther, snarling. V lifted his cane and drove it into the demon. “Little wanderer, hie thee home.”  
_

_“If Urizen defeated him, then I expect he’s not much more than Qliphoth pollen by now. Qliphoth. It’s a tree that grows in the Underworld. It thrives on human blood and those whose blood it sucks, well…”_

_“V, what the hell are you?”_

_Nico and the van. Arguing with her. Splitting up._

_Demons, demons, and more demons. Plants and roots. New devil breakers to replace broken ones. Slicing open a demon and catching a falling Lady. Nico pointing out that Lady is naked. Fighting more demons while Lady is unconscious._

_“Trish…she was captured, I remember that…but I don’t know what happened to Dante.”_

_Leaving with V. Fighting demons with V, his face scrunched in disgust. “Where evil lurks, I must destroy.”  V leaving to search for the Sparda sword after mentioning he had been playing when the town was attacked before._

_Reproaching Urizen. Taunting him. “No body? No dried up Dante jerky? Nothin’?”_

_“You’ve come here to die?” More taunts. ”I am without a name. I am power, absolute. You will suffer and die.”_

_Readying for the fight. He would finish this. He wasn’t a deadweight._

_He lands a blow. Urizen rages. Blood gushes like from Old Faithful. They fight, Urizen comes out ahead. Tendrils wrap around Nero’s body and squeeze. Something causes the tendrils to release him, he falls.  
_

_There’s a demon in the air above him – a red one. Urizen sends out the tendrils but the demon snaps them.  
_

_Unconsciousness for what can only be moments, when consciousness returns, both Urizen and the red devil are in the same positions._

_Dante. Unconsciousness again._

Sayari pulled her hand away from Nero’s face to hold onto the couch and reorient herself. They weren’t done, but she needed a break.

Nero looked at the time while she drank half her juice. “That…only took…”

_A few seconds_ , he trailed off but she still heard the thought loud and clear. Breaking the connection took more effort than she intended to give at the moment, she was just going to go back in soon. “You ok?” he touched her shoulder.

“Just a moment, it’s…disorienting. Like waking up and not knowing where you are. And you? Are you all right?”

“Surprisingly, yeah, I – I thought it would be…painful but it wasn’t.”

“I wouldn’t have done it if it would hurt you,” Sayari assured him.

 Again, she placed her hand on his face and went back into his head.

_Dante dances to music only he can hear in the hat Nico made. It’s awkward, Nero turns his head, it’s too cringy to look at._

_“Dante, I’m gonna go too.”  
_

_“Why don’t you sit this one out?”_

_Humiliated. Dante’s been gone for a month but he still implies that Nero’s too weak, incapable. Reminds him that he lost twice to Urizen. But Dante’s lost twice too._

_“You don’t understand. It’s not what I mean.”_

_If not about weakness, then what? Is Dante worried about him? Is he trying to protect him? Should he feel…_

_“Let him go, Dante.” V rises, convinces Dante. There are cracks in his skin around his eyes, he leans on his cane heavily as he walks. V is…V is breaking._

_The fight against Malphas. Saving V who is deposited by Griffon. V stands, breathing heavily. He takes a few steps and stumbles, falling to his knee. Nero steps forward.  
_

_V’s a strange bastard and who knows if he’s trustworthy but…he’s shown more faith in Nero than Nero feels he deserves. V hasn’t led him astray or lied to him. He seems alone, small glimpses of his past here or there – if they get out of this, maybe they could be friends. Kyrie would put some weight on V’s emaciated frame - when’s the last time he had a genuine home-cooked meal?_

_“This is my last request.” V’s face is marbled with lines of flaking, cracking, breaking skin. No amount of lotion or aloe gel is going to take care of that. He’s serious. He’s dying._

_V is dying._

_Credo had attacked him, shouted at him, had transformed and they fought. But to save Kyrie, they’d put that aside. If Nero had figured it out sooner – if he’d finished the fight earlier –_

_“The truth is…I wanted to be protected…and loved, but I was alone. My only choice was to survive.”_

_Nero doesn’t want to hear this story, not now, not this way._

_“There is no demon named Urizen. Only a man who threw away his humanity in an endless pursuit of power. He is Dante’s older brother.”_

_“His real name is…Vergil.”_

_“To see one’s justice through, a man must fight for it, even if the one who stands before him is his kin.”_

_Urizen, smaller without the throne and the tendrils attached to him, prone. Dante at the ready._

_V walks forward, speaking to Urizen. He recites some poetry, raises his cane. He plunges it down and the world shatters._

_There before the two of them stands a man, a cracked mirror of Dante. He looks about and picks up V’s book. Dante rages forward, Vergil forces him back. The two struggle._

_“Thank you, Nero.” Vergil vanishes._

_“He’s your father!”_

_Disappointment, shock, confusion. Dante knew all along. All the time they’d known –_

_Abandoned and left alone and then lied to._

_Trish and Lady try to console him. Nero jumps away. Kyrie assures him he knows what he’s doing._

_“I’M NOT LETTING YOU DIE.”  
_

_His arm regrows._

_Punching Dante. Fighting Vergil._

_You’re here we can go. We’re trusting you with things on this side, capisce?  Tell Sayari and the kids I love ‘em and I’ll…find a way out of this mess. Take care, Nero. Adios.”_

_“Hold on to that until then,” Vergil flings the book at Nero._

Sayari and Nero separated and were quiet for several minutes. “Thank you, for explaining.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sayari stood up and went over to the mantelpiece where a framed picture of the six of them was placed. “Because we loved you anyway. We didn’t want you to feel obligated to love us or think we were obligated to you. We should have told you, but we knew the questions you would have – did Vergil know about you, why did he leave, did he love your mother, did he love you – and we couldn’t answer any of them. But we were wrong not to tell you, I’m sorry.”


	4. Chapter 4

When they’d passed out their list of campers, everyone had seen that Keziah had been assigned to Hallie and Sparda. “Keep an eye on those two,” everyone said. Jess recounted a story about how last year they’d decided to see how long they could hold their breath under water. The kids were startled when Zach went into lifeguard mode and pulled them from the water. Apparently, it hadn’t occurred to them that adults might think they were drowning. Their first year, Hallie had heard a ten-year-old was bullying a seven-year-old and flattened the bully. Straight up knocked him out cold with a sucker punch. Last year they had done the sugar gliding event with the kids and mid-flight, Sparda had unhooked his harness and plummeted fifteen feet. It was a wonder he hadn’t gotten hurt!

They were sweet, but high-strung. On the first day this year, they’d told her that they were demons and their mother could read minds. The mind reading was funny, but the demon part was kind of sad. Someone had called them demons and they appeared to have internalized some of that.

Now it was the last day and God just wasn’t smiling down on Keziah.

They had fifteen minutes before lunch and Hallie was nowhere to be found. Keziah had checked and double checked the bathrooms, the sheds – any place that might seem interesting or plausible had been checked. She’d asked around the campers and the staff. Not even Sparda had seen her.

“Bound to have happened,” Jess whispered as they got ready to blow their whistles and have the campers come to lunch early. The rest of the staff would search for her while the secretary called Hallie’s parents, and Keziah stayed with Sparda.

They brought him some lunch: a slice of pizza, a side salad, applesauce, and a carton of milk. Sparda picked at the pizza, removing all the toppings and separating them into little piles. He didn’t actually eat it. “Am I in trouble?” he asked.

“No, but your mom’s going to want to see you as soon as she gets here. Plus, maybe you can help us find Hallie.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to go looking,” he perked up.

“Not in that way. Do you know where she might go? Any place she talked about being nice?”

“Not more than usual.” Sparda opened the applesauce container.

“Was she upset? Angry?”

“She didn’t want to be around me today,” Sparda shrugged. “So I don’t know how she was feeling when she wandered off. She called me stupid and I told her she was the stupid one.”

“What was the argument about? Why did she call you stupid?” Angry, Hallie sounded angry. Angry would mean more likely to wander farther away as opposed to sad or scared, which would suggest hiding. Angry kids had energy to vent.

“Well, mom told us last night that dad’s in the Underworld. Hallie thinks dad’s dead and mom’s lying to us, but mom never lies to us. I asked her about Santa Claus – oh, wait…do you believe in Santa Claus?” Keziah shook her head. “Ok,” Sparda sighed with relief. “Mom said that he wasn’t real, or that he was based upon a bunch of different tales. And I asked her about Noah and the Ark and she said that there was likely some big weather thing and people probably came up with different ways to survive, but she’s not sure about Noah and his family. She said the ark didn’t seem likely, given how many animals there are in the world. Mom doesn’t lie. She hates lying. You would too if you could hear everyone’s thoughts.”

Keziah smiled indulgently. “What do you mean by ‘underworld’?”

“It’s adcent to hell.” He paused. “No, that’s not right, ad-cent-something? Something ad-cent?”

“Adjacent?”

 “Yes! Adjacent!” He grinned triumphantly. “It’s adjacent to hell.”

Keziah kept her face as neutral as possible. Internally she wanted to scream. No one had mentioned that their father might be dying. That seemed either a reason to keep the kids at home or to tell the adults in charge of them! “Wha- uh, why is he there?” she reached for her water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and waited.

“Well…Nero says he’s keeping an eye on my Uncle Vergil. Mom says he’s trying to find a way home. Nero’s my cousin, we just found out yesterday! Well, mom says she and dad thought he was, but they didn’t know until recently.”

Keziah took a drink and then set the bottle on the table, but without the cap and just off that when she put the cap next to the bottle, it didn’t seem deliberate when it fell over. “Whoops!” Sparda pulled his lunch tray aside and grabbed a handful of papers and things to keep them dry. “Thanks, sorry, I’ll get some paper towels and clean it up. Don’t you run off.” She made her way out the door until she was out of sight and then bolted for Jennifer’s office.

Jennifer thought she’d come for a different reason. “Yes, I talked to Sayari, she’s on her way. I would have been down earlier but –“

Keziah interrupted, explaining what she’d just learned.

 

* * *

 

Hallie watched as her mother climbed to the top of the ladder and then stepped onto the roof. She waited for the lecture. Instead her mother sat down beside her and smoothed her skirt. “Nice view,” her mom scanned the lake, which was now empty. It had been empty since about lunch time. 

Hallie nodded noncommittally.

“Care to tell me why you hid?”

“Not really.”

They sat there in silence for a few minutes.

Hallie’s mind churned, waiting for her mom to give her the lecture she deserved. She’d deliberately left without telling anyone where she was going or that she was even going at all. Once Keondra and Siara had turned their backs, Hallie had hurried away from them. She hadn’t told anyone because if she had told anyone she wanted to be alone, they wouldn’t have let her. Instead some well-meaning adult would have sat with her and asked questions about why she wanted to be alone, what was going on, and then they would have called her mom –

At least this way she got to be alone for a while before they called her mom.

“I’ll write them an apology note,” Hallie offered.

“Yes, I dare say you will. But what will the note say?”

“I’m sorry I ran away? I’m sorry I scared you?” 

“Good for a start. Are you ready to get down?”

This surprised Hallie. “Aren’t – don’t – aren’t you going to make me tell you why I came here?” 

Her mother chuckled. “Hails, if you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s fine. Besides, it’s not like I won’t find out even if you don’t tell me.”

“Oh. Yeah.” It sucked to have a mom who could read minds. 

“Besides, your brother is definitely ready to leave. I had to convince your counselor and the social worker that your father was not dead or dying –“

“But what if he is!” Hallie burst out. Her anger surprised her – she hadn’t felt it simmer, it just shot out of her like a sneeze. “What if you’re wrong – what if Nero’s wrong? What if dad’s not coming back, he’s dead, or there is no way out?”

Sayari took a breath. “Those are possibilities –" 

“Then you lied to us!”

Sayari shook her head. “I told you what I know –“

“But you said you were really sure dad was coming back! And you’re saying there’s a possibility that he’s dead! That he’s not coming back!” 

“Your father has been to the Underworld before and he’s made it out each time. He’s your father, he’s incredibly resourceful –“

“He lost to me at Scrabble!"

“He loses to _everyone_ at Scrabble. Your father regularly loses all games because he doesn’t focus. But when it comes to fighting demons, to killing them and winning? He’s never lost.”

“First time for everything!”

“Yes, but I think we can extend him a line of faith here, sweetie. The probability that your father is coming back is very high. Let’s give it another month before we start worrying.”

“You’re a liar!”

Her mother stiffened and Hallie realized she’d made a grave mistake. “I may lie about my abilities to those who cannot handle it. I may lie about your demon heritage to protect you. I may avoid talking about my work, but I _do not_ lie to you. I have never lied to you. I will never lie to you. And I will not mislead you about your father – I miss him too, Hallie.” Her mother’s eyes had a teary shine to them. “If your father doesn’t outlive me, then we will grieve together. _As a family_. We will sit shiva for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Hallie whispered. 

“I bet you are. Now let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

 

Kyrie and Nero stayed for Shabbat dinner. They lit the candles and said the blessings and sat down to a wonderful meal Kyrie had cooked. Near bed time, Sparda asked if Kyrie could read them a story. Kyrie agreed and Sayari told her where the book they were reading was and that the chapter was marked.

Sparda shook his head and asked Kyrie to pick a different story. 

Kyrie promised Sayari she would pick up the books in the library after she finished reading to the kids, but Sayari brushed it aside saying she would handle it.

The stack of books Kyrie had elected not to read wasn’t too tall, only about ten books. Since they were for kids under ten, they weren’t big books at all. It would take no time at all to put them back on the shelf. So she began the process.

The fourth book caught her eye. It had been a gift from Lady at some point, Sayari wasn’t sure if it was a Hannukah present or a birthday present. The cover featured King Solomon next to someone who could have been his identical twin if not for the doppelgänger’s chicken feet.

_King Solomon and the Demon King: A Collection of Jewish Folktales_

Sayari had forgotten about the story until just then and she opened it to look at the images. In the story, King Solomon had Ashmodei brought to him, some versions had him capturing two demons and having them bring the King of Demons to him. Others had him directly summoning Ashmodei. It wasn’t solely a Jewish folktale, the Muslims also had a version.

But the story gave Sayari an idea. Demons could be summoned. What about half-demons? And how did one do it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashmodei is another way to write/spell Asmodeus.Same demon, different spellings based on the language, just like how Ivan and John are the same name, just one's the Russian version and the other is English. In Jewish demonology, he's a prince or king of demons. In one story, he helps Solomon build the Temple. In another story he tricks Solomon and spends his time pretending to be Solomon. Episodes 5 and 6 of the podcast Throwing Sheyd talk about him if you're curious. It's a good podcast :)


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Sayari, 

My name is Josef Mizrah, I’m a graduate student at Haifa University studying with Dr. Avram.  Regrettably, he can’t meet with you but I have to be in the US next week to see my family. As such, if you would be interested, we could get together for lunch or dinner and I could help with your questions. Please let me know if this is agreeable and we can hammer out the details!

Best wishes,

Josef

 

* * *

 

 

The kosher Chinese restaurant wasn’t one Sayari frequented, mostly because she didn’t keep kosher except for the holidays when her brother and sister-in-law came over. As a convert, Brianna felt extra pressure to prove herself and therefore kept kosher. Hayden had no problem with it, as he was a vegetarian. But food was instrumental in her line of work. Sitting down and eating with someone created a sense of camaraderie, an intimacy forged over food. Perhaps it had to do with the act of sharing – animals became very territorial around food, not all ate together, some had a hierarchy of who ate when – so maybe sharing a meal said “we have enough and we are equals”. Or maybe it was just that there were knives on the table and no one used them on the other. Who knew? So in her work, she couldn’t very well object to shared food without the reasoning of allergies. To some, asking for a _kosher_ meal would sour the meal because it would inform them that she was Jewish and antisemitism wasn’t as dead as many liked to think it was.

Besides, she really, really liked tacos and a good bbq pulled pork sandwich.

The restaurant was popular enough that it took reservations and Mr. Mizrah had made some for them. She arrived first and was escorted to a table, given a menu, and the waiter took her drink order. Once her water arrived, she placed an appetizer order of assorted dumplings with the vegetarian dumplings on a separate dish from the meat ones so Mr. Mizrah could determine if he wanted meat or not.

The menu offered a large selection of vegetarian options with meat substitutes, she made a mental note to see about takeout for when her family visited.

Around the time the dumplings arrived at the table and Sayari had made her food choice, the host approached her table. But the man she was leading was blank.

Fiddling with her straw, she did her best to study the man without outright staring. No one’s brain had ever been _blank_ to her. She ought to at least get something – an emotion, a word from a stray thought, an image – _anything_.

The host seated Mr. Mizrah and the waiter took his drink order.

Flummoxed, Sayari debated about taking off her gloves. And then she remembered meeting Trish for the first time.

Her mind had been blank too, largely. She’d only ever gotten flashes and that, they reasoned, was because Trish had been a created demon.

“You’re a demon,” Sayari whispered.

He looked up from his menu and smiled. “I wondered how long it would take you to figure it out.”

She started to get up and he calmly reached over and grabbed her by the wrist. It looked gentle, but he threw a lot of his own demonic power into the hold. She could no more leave than if she’d been encased in concrete. “Stay,” he ordered. “At least get the food to go. And I think you want the information I have.” He reached into his shirt pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. It was too thick to see text or writing of any kind. “Oh, and of course, I have presents for your children.”

His knowledge of her kids made her stomach churn.

The hold on her reduced but she still felt the need to flee. “I could always force you to stay,” he reminded her quietly.

Realizing she had no choice, she retook her seat, slightly shaking. “I don’t have any kids,” she lied.

“Hallie and Sparda – seven-year-old twins. Their teacher last year was Mrs. Dunbar. At the parent-teacher conference, you could tell she was trying to find a polite way to say that they frustrated her. Full of promise and sweet, but if they decided they had something more interesting…things like building a boat out of things they found in the shop –“

“Stop,” she held up her hand, remembering the call and meeting Dante outside the school. He’d been laughing because the kids had been caught trying to fit the “boat” through the door. He thought they ought to let them try it in the school pool. The school had been forced to suspend them for using the shop unsupervised. They couldn’t suspend them for sneaking out of class, as they worried Sayari and Dante would sue them for not keeping a better watch. “How do you know about my kids?”

The waiter brought Mizrah’s drink. He asked if they were ready to order. Mizrah asked for a few more minutes. The waiter nodded and left, not thinking anything was amiss.

“Well…” he smiled. “It wasn’t too difficult, I looked up your name, then managed to track down legal and publicly available documents related to you – then I just…looked around.” He offered her the plate of meat dumplings. “Please, eat. The waiter will be back soon.”

“You weren’t here on family business.”

“Technically I am. I’m here on your family business. Children need their parents. You and Dante know that from personal experience.”

Her parents’ accident was public record and well documented. But she still flinched when he brought it up.

The waiter returned and they placed their orders, Mizrah emphasized that hers was to go. “Listen, Sayari, if I may be on first name basis, you asked your rabbi for assistance with questions about practical kabbalah – no one is going to give you that. For a number of reasons – the messiah is not here, so most aren’t willing to practice, then there’s the fact that those who have the documents you’d like to look through believe you’d need years of study first. I don’t think you’re willing to wait years. And the texts…aren’t available no matter how much money you throw at it. I am your best bet.”

Sayari hated how logical he sounded. And how right he probably was. Most of the kabbalah she’d found online read like a cross between self-help motivational speakers and the guides to tarot, tea reading, and other divination practices Kelly had at her store. Anything that marketed itself as practical or dealing with sheydim were clearly influenced by medieval Christianity. Other books that weren’t necessarily Kabbalah but she’d found while looking up kabbalah, boos like _The Lesser Key of Solomon_ , she’d discovered, were written with references to Jesus, name dropping him like a pandering politician. She was fairly certain that calling upon someone you didn’t believe in wouldn’t work, belief was probably like a battery for spells. Even if horror movies implied spells spoken just for laughs could work, she didn’t think so.

“How do I know you’re not trying to trick me? That this won’t end up killing me or worse?”

Mizrah nodded, “You don’t, you have to trust me. I know that’s difficult, but in all honesty, I’m an academic demon. Look me up in the Talmud – Yosef Sheyda – Rashi even commented on me.”

That made her snort. “Your name is literally Joe the Demon?”

“Joe is a great name, perfect for blending in, but no. It’s just what they called me and I like it. But for other reasons you can trust me, I don’t want to hurt you. I want to study – I want to go to conventions and create academic turmoil. Have you ever watched a bunch of academics fight? It’s hilarious. That’s my area of demonic calling. But Vergil is still king of the Underworld. If he stays king, then he might bother me. If you summon Dante, then Vergil will focus on him and leave me in my little bubble of books.”

An idea struck her and she took out her notebook. Jewish demons were required to follow mitzvot, commandments, or at least some of them. Taking God’s name in vain would certainly be one of them. She would ask him for his real name. And then she had to be lawyerly. She couldn’t give him an out, any wiggle room. When she finished writing, she handed it over.

Mizrah looked at the paper and laughed.

“Your real name, I want your real name.”

He held out his hand in the universal signal of ‘give me that’ and she gave him her pen.

 

 _I, the undersigned, so hereby swear befor_ _e_ _יהוה that the information I have given is true. It is meant in no way to harm or negatively impact anyone or any entity. There is no deception in what I provide nor say. In following the information provided, no harm will come to Sayari, her family, her friends, her acquaintances, her house and home, or her possessions. Likewise the gifts I offer to her children are merely for their entertainment and like the information contain nothing harmful._

He’d signed it and handed it and her pen back to her.

She gave him the pen. “There. A real deal. Information for the pen.” _  
_

At that, he laughed again. Then he took out the paper and handed it to her. “Follow the instructions as they are written and Dante will be home in the blink of an eye.”

“And Vergil?”

“He’ll follow,” Mizrah looked over his shoulder at their waiter approaching with food. He passed them by to another table. “I imagine you’ll have about two days or so before he comes for Dante.” He took a drink.

“Wait,” Sayari looked at the paper, scanning the instructions, “I want Vergil home too.”

Mizrah choked on his drink. “You what?”

“I want them both, Dante and Vergil. It’s only fair.”

 “Well.” The demon leaned back in his seat, coughed a bit. “Well.” He held out his hand and indicated he wanted to see the paper. She started to hand it back, but he merely pointed to a section. “Just change this to Vergil’s name here.” She saw Dante’s name written down. “You can just say this part without needing to change any tools or ingredients.”

Their waiter was approaching with their food. “Now I want you to verbally swear on the Name.”

Mizrah waited until their food had been delivered and the payment for Sayari’s meal settled. Then he verbally swore the oath and coughed like he’d inhaled smoke from a strong cigarette.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Joe the Demon,” Sayari stood up from the table and gathered her boxed food and accepted the bag with the presents for the kids.

“And you as well, enjoy having your husband home. Good luck Vergil-proofing the place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sheyd (pronounced shade) is the Hebrew word for demon. Sheydim is its plural form.
> 
> Yes, there actually is a Joe the Demon (Yosef Sheyda) in the Talmud. It's debatable whether it's an actual demon or a demonology expert. 
> 
> Rashi wrote commentary on the Talmud.
> 
> יהוה is a name of God in Hebrew, commonly transliterated as Yahweh. However, it's next to impossible to actually pronounce it as written in Hebrew as it's basically all vowels. The usual help for pronunciation is missing. Often, "Adonai" will be substituted in its place.
> 
> It's Jewish tradition that if a piece of paper has a name for God written on it in Hebrew, that paper must be buried. In writing the name on the paper, Sayari's essentially created proof of the oath and given that Joe the Demon is a) a Jewish demon and b) aware of tradition, he knows exactly what she was up to.


	6. Chapter 6

There is only one reason, and one reason only, that demons stay in the Underworld, and that is because they cannot get out. Those too weak to push their way to the cracks, tears, and holes in the fabric of the barrier made the best of their lives in the Underworld. Those with enough power that Sparda’s spell had specifically bound them hurled their minions at the fissures with the instructions of freeing their master. Some minions had the joyless, mind-numbing task of waiting in line at the Hell Gates, hoping for a miracle of some dumb and daring human to open the door. It was like waiting for the next generation iPhone while Caligula was still nominating senators. Those who successfully made it out rarely came back of their own free will.

The only exception to this rule was Vergil, the eldest son of Sparda, the traitor. With Yamato, he could come and go as he pleased. Yet he had chosen at first to stay which suggested to many that he was exceptionally dull-witted. Opting to stay in the Underworld was like setting up a beach umbrella and chair while a tsunami wave visibly approached. Leaving and coming back would have been sheer lunacy if not for his recent rise to power.

The king of hell needed to remain in hell. This was where most of the demons lived, this was where their authority reigned. There was no concern for making sure his constituents were thriving or enjoying their lives to their fullest. There was only power and retaining it. And while one may be the strongest, one is nothing if a thousand decide to defy.

But this was not why Vergil remained in the Underworld.

He remained, simply, because his brother was there.

Not that he would admit this to anyone.

Dante sprawled on the ground and put his arms behind his head. “You know what’s great about the human world?”

“If you say your wife one more time –“

“Well, she is great,” Dante laughed. “But I was actually going to say ‘beds’. Comfortable beds of all kinds with blankets and pillows – king sized beds, queen sized beds with those mattress toppers that remember you –“

“Is that your wife?” Vergil asked snidely. Dante tossed a rock at him, which Vergil easily ducked. “If you want to leave, I guess you’ll just have to keep trying to take Yamato.”

“I’ll get it eventually.” He lifted his head to wave a hand dismissively. He acted as if he wasn’t bothered by being kept in the Underworld because of the challenge. It was one of the main reasons Vergil suspected the ‘wife’ was bogus.

Another reason was her name – Sayari. If Vergil had to imagine Dante in any long-term relationship, it would be with someone with a name like Storm or Missy or Mindy, something that would be simple and unlikely to be misspelled on the VHS box. It wouldn’t be a serious relationship, just sexual. It would end amicably, perhaps Dante would feature in her next video. 

“You want first watch?” Dante asked, closing his eyes.

“Very well,” Vergil agreed, taking a seat and laying Yamato across his lap.

Not all of the demons who had attacked them had intended to attack _him_. Some of them had yelled at him that they would slay Dante for him.

Vergil considered his brother and wondered once again, why did he prevent the other demons from killing him?

“Night, Verge,” Dante prepared to sleep.

It wasn’t night, but Vergil humored him. “Good night, Da-“

As he spoke, it was as if he’d sliced open a portal with Yamato. Only instead of walking through the darkness, something _pulled_ him. Not like hands, but rather a full body pull, solid pressure around him that yanked him up and back.

When the pressure subsided and the darkness cleared away to show a well-lit room with cream carpeting. The carpeting had sigils painted on that Vergil recognized to be summoning marks. He, however, was standing on a mirror. He turned around and saw an olive-skinned woman wearing a white lacy tank top and jean shorts. Her feet were bare. She was sitting on a stool, holding a piece of paper, a few candles lit near her.

“It worked,” she breathed. “ _Baruch Hashem_. Give me a moment, please, Vergil, and then I’ll answer some of your questions.”

He moved towards her, drawing Yamato, but she ignored him to read off the paper – a summoning spell. When she uttered a holy name, he froze in place and shivered. Then she said Dante’s name and in a second, he heard behind him his brother yelling, “-IL!” 

“Right here,” Vergil told his brother.

 Dante spun around on the mirror. “Verg-!” He cut himself off when he caught sight of the woman. “Babe!” Vergil looked over his shoulder to see her lift a hand and wiggle her fingers in a sarcastic wave. Dante hurried to her but was stopped by something. He put his hands up and found an invisible barrier preventing him from crossing. He looked down and Vergil looked as well. There was an iron bar with sigils scrawled on it and obviously blessed and hexed.

“I had Trish help with a demon repelling line – I wasn’t sure this would work or if it would work and I get…someone else. Then I had Kelly put a spell on it for the two of you. She thinks we’re up to…well, something kinky, but she can think whatever she would like. But I want the two of you to listen to me. I did three days of fasting and ruined this carpet to make this work, so the two of you will not, I repeat, will _not_ fight in the house. You will also be respectful of the neighbors when you fight outside. That means the trees and bushes remain mostly intact. But if you _touch_ my orchids, so help me – “ she paused, realizing that was a bit off topic. “You will also set decent examples for the kids. That means you will work on conflict resolution through peaceful means and only physically fight when they aren’t home or around you. Is that understood?”

 “Yes, ma’am,” Dante saluted cheekily.

“Vergil?”

Vergil looked first at her. Instinctively, he wanted to decline. Who was this human to tell him what to do? But then he looked at Dante and realized that they usually fought outdoors. It would mean nothing to haul Dante outside to slay him. “Very well,” he sheathed Yamato. 

“Excellent. Now, if you both would take off your shoes and socks, I’ve already sacrificed one carpet already. You two can shower and then we can have lunch, how does that sound?”

“Sounds awesome,” Dante readily agreed, no doubt looking forward to the creature comforts of the upper world.

Vergil remembered showers, of course. But he remembered them the same way he remembered eating or dressing. It had been so long since he’d needed to do any of that. Dressing after reuniting his halves had been more a matter of image – how he saw himself at his most powerful: himself, whole.

“Will you take Vergil’s boots and socks? Throw the socks in the washing machine, please. And throw your clothes in the washer, I’ll handle sorting it.”

Dante nudged Vergil for his stuff and Sayari got off her stool to pick up an iron bar and moving it to give them a passage out. Vergil looked at his brother and then began removing his shoes. Sayari blew out the candles and picked up a sheet from under the stool. She walked over to the mirror and spread it over the mirror. Dante tossed the shoes aside and grabbed her by the waist.

“Ah!” she yelled and then gagged. “Oh God – you _reek_! Absolutely disgusting, the two of you! Put me down!”

Instead, he tossed her over his shoulder. “Grab your shoes, Verge. I’ll show you where to put ‘em.” Vergil followed his brother up the stairs to the main floor.

There, Dante put his wife down on the floor. She straightened her clothes and cleared her throat. “All right, go shower, you,” she fluttered her hand at Dante. “I’ll give you a tour later,” she promised Vergil. “But over there,” she gestured, “is the garage. If you follow me,” she turned and started down the hall. Dante tossed his shoes towards the garage and Vergil placed his near the garage. Then he followed them down the hall. They reached an opening and she paused to show him the living room. Then she led him up the stairs. Dante kept pace between them and she led them to a bedroom.

“I hope this is all right,” she smiled at Vergil. “I figured we could go shopping tomorrow and you can pick out things you like. But this should do for now.” She looked over at Dante. “Go, shower. You know where the bathroom is.”

“He’s afraid to leave you alone with me,” Vergil informed her.

“I know,” she said sadly. “But it’s unnecessary.” She entered the room and gestured at a variety of bags. “Clothes are in here. I had to guess at your size, so there are extras. Whatever doesn’t fit we can return or donate – I hope you can find something tolerable for now.” She pulled a trunk out from under the bed. “You can store Yamato in here. The key’s inside, it’s unlocked. You have the only key.”

When she went to leave the room, she pushed at Dante. “ _Go_.”

“All right, fine,” he surrendered and walked away.

She led Vergil down the hall a few feet to a bathroom. Inside she showed him toiletries she’d purchased for him – sample sizes on toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, mouthwash, and shower gel. Like the clothes, she told him they could shop for something more to his style. Then she explained how to work the shower.

“I have taken a shower before,” he told her.

“Oh, I know, but a shower’s like a toaster – each one has its unique issues and everyone has that moment of ‘how do I get this just right’? I do this for all my guests.” She started towards the door, gesturing at the hamper, telling him to put his clothes there, then she turned around and took a step closer. “Welcome back. It’s great to finally meet you. Dante’s…he’s missed you so much. And I know we just met but…may I give you a hug?”

Vergil had no response to that.

She took his silence as acceptance and she wrapped her arms around him. Tightly, she squeezed him, as if he didn’t smell of hell and grime and sweat.

And he felt strange.

* * *

 

 Dante had expected that Sayari would visit him while he showered. She had not. Instead he got dressed and went down to the kitchen where she was setting the table and eating a cheese stick.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted her, “I can’t believe you didn’t come see me.”

She twirled the cheese stick in the air instead of explaining. “You mean you passed up this,” he gestured at his body. “Naked and wet for a stick of cheese?”

“And a few pretzels,” she confirmed.

“Oh, well, a few pretzels, yeah, that’s –“

 “I really wouldn’t push the issue if I were you,” she warned him, not in a mood for sarcasm. “Three day fast, remember? To summon your stupid ass. I’m hungry, so I’m touchy. And then you spent a little over a month in the Underworld just twirling your thumbs. Why didn’t you come home?”

He wanted to defend himself, but she knew all of his explanations, she could hear them in his head, see the scenes he wanted to lay at her feet. She knew.  

So instead of speaking – he just went and hugged her. _I missed you_ , he thought, holding onto her like he could replace the hug with all the love and longing he’d experienced since he’d left. As if the hug could pluck her worries and anxious hours from her like they were choice berries and devour them, leaving behind only small stems. 

She sighed. “We need to have a serious talk, alone.” He let her go and she went to the cupboards.

“Is that why the kids are with Alex?”

She got a few serving dishes out and checked on the contents of a pot. “Alex is visiting colleges in Massachusetts. They’re with Hayden and Brianna.”

“Oh.”

 “They miss you,” she turned off the burner and went to move the contents into a serving dish. “Will you get drinks, please?” Dante opened the cupboard and took down a few glasses. “They’ll be home Thursday – it’s Tuesday now. I figured we’d need the day to get Vergil some clothes and other items.” Dante looked over his shoulder, listened for his brother, and then thought, _Are you sure you want him in our house?_

“That’s what we have to talk about, later. Not right now.” Dante filled the glasses with water and set them on the table. “We had a little trouble at camp – I got called in because Hallie wandered off. She was convinced you were dead and I was lying to her. So you’re going to need to do some father-kid activities.” She opened the oven, checked the chicken, and removed the dish. 

 He would do them anyway, she knew that. He always made time to spend with the kids when he got back from a job. They always did something, even if it was just go to the movies. “How’s Sparda?”

“I swear to you,” she shook her head and put the chicken dish on the trivet. “He is…the definition of easy-going. Do you remember how rarely he’d fuss as a baby? But if Hallie had her sock on slightly wrong, she’d scream for hours? He’s still the same…but I know he was frightened. He’s very interested in amphibians and animals that can regrow limbs – he planned to ask Hayden if he could use his contacts to do gene sequencing on Nero since Nero regrew his arm.” She turned to the entrance to the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready, Vergil. I hope you like it, I admit I got a little carried away cooking while I fasted.”

“It smells good.” Vergil stepped to the table.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know they had to stink after the events in DMC5. They described Urizen's throne as smelling like "hot garbage" - now imagine marinating in that for a month, toss in some sweat and demon grime, and EW.


	7. Chapter 7

After a tour of the house, they let him pour over the library. Left alone, Vergil was very content to just explore the books. In the hall, Sayari pulled Dante into a guest room.

“Can’t wait, huh? Me either,” Dante leaned down to kiss her.

“You didn’t tell him I’m telepathic,” she intercepted his kiss with her hand. 

Dante thought about it. He went over the times he’d talked about his family with Vergil. He’d told Vergil he was married, of course. And that he had children. In his efforts to convince Vergil that he wasn’t full of shit, he’d talked about unpleasant realities of marriage and fatherhood, things he wouldn’t likely know otherwise – things like how to change a diaper, what it’s like when your son pees on you or one of the kids pukes on you, the pains of joint tax filings –

But now that he thought about it, no. He had not mentioned Sayari’s telepathy to his brother.

She dropped her hand to let him respond. “It’s…not the first thing that comes to mind,” he shrugged.

“I’m not keeping that a secret in my own home, with family. So we need to figure out a way to break it to him.”

She’d never had to tell anyone that she was telepathic. Hayden had told Brianna – and convinced her. He’d told her the same time he told her that he was telepathic. From what she’d gathered from him, it had been kind of rough. Brianna at first thought he was just great at guessing, that he knew her that well. Then once she accepted it, she was angry. She’d wanted to know why he hadn’t told her up front. She considered it an invasion of privacy.

Sayari and Hayden had always known the other’s thoughts. Their parents had chalked that up to twins being twins. Things started getting more suspicious when they started talking. They let on that they knew things that had never been spoken about in front of them. Surprises were never surprising. The first time they wore mittens, they found that Sayari would scream once they were removed. Years of that and their first explanation was Hayden explaining, “It’s too loud.” When they asked what was too loud, as they weren’t even talking and the radio was low, Hayden gestured widely. After brain scans and tests, eventually they had to look into the paranormal.

Dante had known when they first met. He had been open to it, but also thought maybe she was exaggerating. But he was used to weird things. He took it in stride.

The kids had known. It had been referenced enough in front of them that there wasn’t ever a moment they were actually sat down and given a “talk”. They just knew the same way kids learn basic things.

That was it. No one else knew. Jonathan at work suspected but he also thought that maybe he was slightly insane and that she was just a good listener and really observant.

She didn’t know how to break it to anyone but she knew that if they hid it from Vergil and he found out later, he would be angry. It was just the standard reaction to learning secrets.

“I guess you just say it bluntly. ‘I can read minds.’ The end. Oh and stand behind me when you say it?” Dante imagined Vergil sinking Yamato into Dante’s chest. “Behind me _behind_ me,” Dante emphasized.

“No. No fighting. I’m telling him at dinner.” 

“Oooh, can we have pizza for dinner?”

“You are so predictable, even a non-telepath could read you.”

He tweaked her ponytail and grinned. “Y’know, he’ll be in there for a while and we have time –“

“Predictable,” she laughed and then rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

* * *

 

 “He took that better than I thought,” Dante commented, jumping up to sit on the counter while Sayari brushed her teeth.

Indeed, Vergil had heard Sayari’s explanation and thanked her for telling him. Dante had expected he’d at the very least lecture her about the importance of privacy. That if she poked around in his head too much or told any of his secrets, he’d cut her down. It had been so long since he and Vergil had interacted with a human where their life had been in danger. Lady had been threatened by Vergil at Temen-ni-gru, even if he largely ignored her. Then as Urizen, he’d encased her in an Artemis. She was really the only human Dante knew Vergil had encountered since they were children.

Obviously, he’d met Nero’s mother, but he’d been mum on the subject. Questions about her were deflected with a derisive laugh and a snide comment. Part of Dante thought that Vergil didn’t remember Nero’s mother. That he’d either had a string of flings, just ways to release the tension or meet his body’s impulses. But that didn’t really seem like Vergil.

Another theory that stayed in the vain of Vergil not remembering was that the separation and reunification of his demon and human halves had scrambled his memory.

But the most probable was that he just didn’t want to tell Dante.

Sayari rinsed her mouth and reached for the floss. “He was slightly perturbed, but it’s not an uncommon ability in demons, so it wasn’t too new for him.”

Dante hummed in acknowledgment and started brushing his teeth.

By the time Dante finished brushing, flossing, and using mouthwash, Sayari was braiding her hair.

“Hey, don’t do that.”

“Why not?” she asked, twisting the strands.

 “I mean, go ahead but then you’re probably gonna lose a hair tie when I undo it.”

“And who says your hands are going to be in my hair tonight?” She reached for an elastic.

“You can’t be serious,” Dante gasped.

“You were in the Underworld, seemingly content to stay there, so I don’t think you’re interested in –“

“OF COURSE I’M INTERESTED!!” He knocked her hair tie aside and grabbed her hand. Immediately he took her hand and placed it on his crotch. She could feel that he was already half hard. “You know why I had to stay – but, babe –“

“Well, you might be interested but do you deserve -? I mean, you’re going to need to convince –“

He let go of her hand and pulled her up for a kiss. He hopped off the counter and hoisted her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist. Once she securely held on, he undid the braid with one hand and carried her to their bed.

“Hold on,” she broke the kiss. “I get to be in charge. I’m on top. You don’t get a say until I say so.”

“Fair,” he agreed readily, then tossed her onto the bed.

Hours later, they discussed Vergil staying with them. It was easy to understand why Dante was hesitant to let him stay at their house. His most recent interactions with Vergil hadn’t been child safe. They also hadn’t been easy on the surroundings. Buildings were destroyed, injuries were inflicted, and Vergil wasn’t quite social.

“We can’t just let him loose and he needs to be with family.”

“He hates me,” Dante moaned.

“No, he doesn’t. He’s jealous of you, yes. But he doesn’t hate you any more than you hate him.”

“Still not good.”

“Do you not want him here?”

Dante rolled on his side so he could face her. She propped her head up on her fist. “I do and I don’t. I’ve missed him, you know that. He’s my brother…but what about you and the kids? What if he hurts you? You especially. You’re –“

She dropped back onto the bed, looked at the ceiling, and sighed. “If you say ‘fragile’, I’m gonna break that dildo you gave me for Hannukah.”

He’d ordered one of those kits that let the buyer create a duplicate of the owner’s penis and turn it into a vibrator. It had been a fun night.

“Well…you’re not as durable as me or the kids. I mean, shit, Nero grew an arm back!”

“And you left me a _letter_. In case you _died_. I never read it by the way. So you’re not invulnerable either. And from what I saw from Nero, Vergil _wants_ this domesticity. He wants a family and to be loved.”

Dante looked up at the ceiling too and thought about it. 

“I’m no psychologist,” Sayari continued, “but I can see enough that he’s traumatized and he’s never developed any good coping mechanisms. This is his chance, this is _your_ chance to heal.”

Dante thought of V’s giant cat creature. He thought of how it had obeyed V, a large, powerful predatory creature obeying the will of a frail human. Could Sayari do the same? Could she tame Vergil?

“He’s not a feral cat, Dante. We’re not domesticating him.” She scoffed. “We’re rehabilitating him.”

She was the best candidate. She was already aware of Vergil’s nature and abilities. She could read minds and so had a pretty decent barometer on whether or not this was a good idea. And above all, she had the personality for it. “We’ll give it a try, but if anything goes wrong -”

“Of course,” she agreed. 

They fell into an easy silence and then Sayari stretched. “Speaking of trying things…”

“Yeah?”

“I found a new flavor of ice cream when I went grocery shopping…want to try it before the kids get home?”

“Oh, _hell_ yeah!”

And they were off for midnight ice cream.

 

* * *

 

 

Shopping with Vergil went very differently from how Sayari thought it would. He had no qualms about the underwear she’d purchased for him, so she crossed that off her list of necessities. He didn’t need to build an entire wardrobe that very trip, she assured him. She’d merely compiled a list of summer wear and essentials like a hoodie, tennis shoes, dress shoes, one pair of dress pants, and two dress shirts.

The last two proved to be the easiest. Before they’d left, she’d had Dante measure Vergil.  Vergil snatched the tape measurer from his brother and measured himself. Since men’s pants were sized according to those numbers, they didn’t need to spend time trying the clothes on. As always, Sayari felt a surge of envy. It would be lovely to shop with such ease.

Shoes were the hardest, as those he had to try on and walk around in before he found a good pair. Like Dante, he mainly wore boots and he objected to her that he didn’t need anything but boots.

“Dude,” Dante had hissed. “Just pick out the shoes.”

Vergil objected that it was a waste of time and money. “Now you’ve done it,” Dante sighed and Sayari launched into a lecture on why boots weren’t always appropriate wear. Two minutes into it, Vergil not only picked out a pair of tennis shoes, he’d hurried on to find shoes appropriate for formal wear.

When they checked out, Vergil straightened gift cards, chocolate bars, business cards, and anything that was at the register.

They went to the food court for lunch. Immediately, Dante headed over to Sbarro to order enough pizza to frighten the poor teen just trying to get through the day. Vergil read over each menu before finally ordering at Subway. And she went with the delightfully unhealthy soft pretzels.

At the end of the shopping trip, they went to a bookstore.


	8. Chapter 8

Hayden pulled into the driveway and popped the trunk. Sayari opened the front door and walked down. The siblings waved at each other while the kids grabbed their duffel bags from the trunk and Sparda slammed it shut.

_Was your plan successful?_ Hayden asked mentally.

_Yes_ , she replied.

Unlike everyone else, she and Hayden could communicate completely telepathically without having to take additional steps.

“Hi, mom!” Sparda ran over, his duffel bag slapping against the back of his legs, and he hugged her with one arm. “Aunt Bri took us to see this bug exhibit! It was so cool! I got this!” he reached inside his pocket and produced a plastic insect. It was a deep maroon in color. “Doesn’t it look like the drawings of Grandpa?” He held it up so she could see the face of the toy.

“If you leave that in my room, I’m throwing it away,” Hallie told him.

“Well, while you were gone, I ripped up the carpet in the basement.” This was sort of true. She’d asked Dante and Vergil to do it since she’d had to sacrifice it to get them back. It hadn’t gone too badly, Vergil had approached the task with more seriousness than necessary, but she’d been worried they would injure each other with the carpet knives. “And I’d like your opinion on redoing the carpet or leaving it like it is.” She sent Hayden a plan telepathically.

Hallie and Sparda exchanged a look. Then Hallie shrugged, “Carpet, I guess?”

“Well, if you want my opinion,” Hayden volunteered, “I’ll need to see the basement before I decide.”

“Good idea, let’s all go down.”

_Adults_ , the kids thought, exchanging another look. “Do we have to?” Sparda asked. “I need to unpack.”

“Unpacking can wait,” Sayari laughed. “Come on.”

They followed her indoors. The kids dropped their duffel bags off in the entryway and Hayden hung his keys on the keyholder. Together they went down into the basement and when they reached the bottom step, Sayari gestured at the open space. “So what do you think? I think it looks very open, it would be good for all the workout equipment, and –“

There was a loud inhuman roar and the kids were snatched up in Dante’s arms. The kids screamed in terror and wriggled in an attempt to get free. 

And then they realized who had them.

“DAD!” they screamed, hugging him. Hayden laughed and held his hand out for Sayari to high five. _Who set this up?_ He asked.

_Team effort_ , she replied.

“Great surprise, right?” Dante kissed Hallie’s forehead, Sparda had his arms wrapped around Dante’s neck, his face buried against Dante’s shoulder. “Isn’t your mom a genius?” Sparda let go of him to show him the plastic bug, Hallie hugged Dante again. Their voices overlapped as they tried to tell him everything that had happened since he’d left, but Dante held up his hands and they immediately fell silent. “But I brought you another surprise.” Sayari tilted her head, amused. “Ok, your mom and I got you another surprise.”

“I don’t want another baby brother!” Hallie burst out while Sparda yelled his hopes of a pet. He’d take a puppy or kitten but he’d kill for a giant lizard. Then he realized what Hallie had said and he yelled that he wasn’t her baby brother, they were _twins_! Dante laughed and looked at Sayari. She just shook her head. They were not having another baby, no matter what.

“Hallie, Sparda, I’d like you to meet your Uncle Vergil. Vergil, this is Hallie and Sparda.” Vergil stepped out from behind the steps so they could see him. He held his hands behind his back, squeezing his hands together to alleviate some of his tension.

“And I’m Hayden, Sayari’s brother,” Hayden waved.

The kids stared at Vergil. They knew of him, of course. When they were little, they’d thought Lady and Trish were his sisters. They called them Aunt Trish and Aunt Lady to this day even though they knew they weren’t related. Dante’s stories of Vergil, though, were few and far between. Usually just a comment of “should be fine, didn’t hurt me or Vergil when we were kids” when the twins were fighting. Once he took out the sole picture he had of Vergil and showed it to them. “This was my brother.” “Where is he now?” the kids had asked. Dante didn’t answer and so they didn’t ask again.

Vergil shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He looked at Hayden and nodded in greeting.

Sparda broke away from Dante first. He took a few steps towards Vergil, debating how to appropriately respond to a new uncle. He’d never been introduced to an uncle that he could remember. It seemed wrong to hug someone you just met, but it also seemed rude to shake an _uncle_ ’s hand. He didn’t make his choice until the last second, when he hugged Vergil’s legs, his head against Vergil’s side.

Hallie looked at her mom and then approached Vergil. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Hallie, I’m the older twin.”

Vergil smiled with difficulty. “I’m the older twin as well.” 

With hesitation, Vergil put his hand on Sparda’s back, patted the boy, and then nudged him away from him.

 

* * *

 

 

 

_You need to be careful_ , Hayden told his sister as she walked him out to the car. _Dante’s worried about you and the kids_.

_I know. But we’ll be all right._

_Don’t drop your guard too quickly, Hadas, he’s like a feral animal –_

_He’s a person!_ Sayari interrupted. 

_He hasn’t been a person in a long time, not since Nero was conceived. He’s like a feral animal, you have to recondition him to society._

Sayari rolled her eyes. She knew more of what Vergil was capable of than Hayden did and she didn’t appreciate him lecturing her. “Drive safe,” she told him and they hugged one another. “Call me when you get home, ok?”

Hayden kissed the top of her head. She could feel his reluctance to leave. Because his telepathic prowess wasn’t as powerful as hers, he’d always been her buffer for the world. Sometimes he’d had to physically intervene when someone bothered her. Big brothers, she’d noted, usually thought of themselves as their sibling’s defender, but Hayden would have felt that way no matter which one of them came out of the womb first.

“I’m glad he’s back,” Hayden told her. “And I think you shouldn’t bother re-carpeting the basement.”

She scoffed. “But then if I have to do this again, it won’t be as easy to clean up as just ripping up carpeting.” 

Hayden laughed and climbed into his car. They waved to each other and she went back inside. Sparda described the bug exhibit, complete with a guidebook Brianna had purchased for him. Sayari hoped he’d stick to lizards and amphibians, she did not want him to start collecting bugs. He already asked for animals all the time. She called Sparda over after a while to give him a lecture about touching people without their consent. 

Hallie had her art project out and was showing it to Vergil. Vergil stared at the paper, half paying attention, half thinking of better art he’d seen. Then Hallie mentioned this was step one for how she’d pick the medium for her actual painting. That made him reexamine it and ask her how she would pick, what she wanted the effect to be. Hallie brightened, finally having someone to talk to about art who wasn't her mom.

Sayari picked up the phone and called Nero. After a brief discussion, she handed the phone to Dante. “Hey kid,” Dante greeted Nero. “Yup, I’m back. And so’s your dad, hang on,” he tossed the phone to Vergil, who caught it out of reflex. He looked down at the phone in his hand while Hallie leaned forward to say hi into the receiver.

“Talk to him,” Dante hissed.

Vergil put the phone up to his ear and took a breath. “Nero?” he listened for a bit and then got up to thrust the phone to Sayari. She took it and told Nero that she didn’t think Vergil was quite ready for visitors just yet. Soon, she promised, they would get together soon. He could always stop by the Devil May Cry office when Dante opened if he wanted, though. 

There were other calls made, to Trish, to Lady, Morrison, and finally to Patty. Sayari just handed Dante the phone and asked Vergil to prevent Dante from hanging up. Patty’s shrieks of delight and yells of chastisement could be heard even after Hallie turned on the TV and found cartoons. Cartoonish antics and music were no match for the young lady who had been slighted by not having Dante at her birthday party.

When Dante finally hung up, Sayari patted him on the shoulder. “Just imagine what it will be like for her twenty-first birthday.”

Dante groaned.

Then Sayari started laughing. “And a bachelorette party! Oh, she’d probably want you to jump out of the cake!” she laughed even harder, imagining Dante covered in frosting and wearing a sash.

“That sounds like fun,” Sparda thought of jumping through a cake. What would it feel like?

“Wouldn’t that ruin the cake?” Hallie asked, flipping the channel to find better cartoons.

“Lots of things are ruined at bachelorette parties,” Dante told her. “But you can still eat cake if it’s broken.”

Vergil narrowed his eyes and asked who Patty was.

Soon enough the kids were ready for bed and gave their parents goodnight hugs and kisses. Then they considered Vergil and Sparda hurried over, hugged him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Night, Uncle Vergil!”

“Sparda!” Sayari chastised him. “We ask people before we touch them, remember?” 

Sparda apologized. Vergil shrugged it off and Hallie asked if she could hug and kiss him goodnight. Vergil hesitated.

Longing burned through him. It came off him like a sunburn, peels that broke off in tiny pieces, leaving a trace that few noticed, just vacuumed them up to throw away. Vergil operated the vacuum himself, gathering them in shame. He missed a few, though, Sayari caught a few of those pieces of longing. It reminded her of Nero’s memory of V, falling apart, his own skin flaking like Vergil’s feelings. “The truth is, I wanted to be protected…and loved.”

She caught Vergil’s eye and gave a slight nod. She wanted him to have assurance that she wouldn’t tell what she’d felt, that he could ask for hugs and no one would think less of him. He didn’t quite get it. Instead he merely understood that she knew.

“Might as well,” he agreed. Hallie followed through and then the kids waved on their way to bed.

“We should probably get to bed soon too,” Sayari reminded Dante. Vergil misunderstood that and rose, bidding them goodnight. “You don’t need to –“ she stopped herself.

Dante reached for the remote and raised his eyebrow at her. She nodded and he turned on the news. With a sigh, she laid down, putting her head in his lap. Dante automatically began combing her hair with his fingers.

This – this simple intimacy warmed her like hot apple cider and donuts or hot chocolate and latkes. But tonight, she felt oddly bittersweet. This intimacy was what Vergil wanted.

After the news, they went up to bed and found the twins already there, waiting. They changed into pajamas and then the four snuggled in together for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hayden calls Sayari "Hadas" - a shortened version of Hadasah, which is her Hebrew name. Most Jews have a Hebrew name that is used in religious services (at a bar/bat mitzvah, wedding, giving a blessing before reading the Torah, etc.).


	9. Chapter 9

Vergil mistook Sayari’s comment about needing to go to bed early to be polite instruction but even after he realized it wasn’t, he was glad to be alone. No one had any questions or gave him strange looks like Hallie had all through dinner. Sparda had given him similar looks when he was showing him the bug toy and book. He wasn’t sure what the look meant, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t need to keep his face under control and as he brushed his teeth, he noticed the bags under his eyes.

He thought of the way the children had moved around Dante, leaning against him, hugging him, random touches. And then he remembered the four hugs he received. None of them had been with the nonchalance they had when they’d interacted with Dante. No one touched him with nonchalance – not even when he’d been V. He’d been crumbling when Nero offered his physical support and even that had been tentative.

His own familiars, the remnants of his nightmares, had rarely been physically affectionate. Occasionally, Shadow would nap against him.

Vergil pushed those thoughts out of his head and threw his clothes into the hamper.

The hamper, the clothes, the furniture in the bedroom, the books on the nightstand – he owed it all to a human.

He owed his very presence on Earth to a _human_.

And not the human he’d partially been before – but his brother’s _wife_.

Somehow, _again_ , Dante had all the luck in the world. A beautiful, smart wife who handled demonic problems with the ease of someone going to swat an obnoxious fly.

Vergil again opted not to continue down his trail of thought and got into bed to read. A glance at the nightstand where his book waited informed him that he’d neglected to bring a glass of water with him. Mildly annoyed, he stood and walked out into the hallway.

 A few steps down the stairs, he retreated back. Keeping his mind as blank as possible, he peeked around the wall.

Contrary to his first thought, his brother and Sayari were not engaged in any salacious act. They were just cuddling, her head in his lap, looking up at him. One of his hands was in her hair, the other resting atop hers on her belly.

Longing bloomed in the pit of Vergil’s stomach and he turned back to his room. He could wait for them to go to bed and then retrieve a drink. What he couldn’t do was stand to walk past his brother with his damned luck – luck of escaping the troublesome life of Vergil’s childhood and adolescence, beating him at Temen-ni-gru, the luck of beating Mundus. The luck of finding a wife who would tolerate Dante. The luck of a family. No, he couldn’t bear to face that, so he went to bed. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Truthfully, Sayari made more sense as Vergil’s girlfriend or wife. She was clearly more educated than Dante, cared more about books than Dante. Had Dante ever read a book? Longer than _The Bearenstain Bears_? There had been poetry books in her collection and when he’d leafed through a few to pick out a book to read he’d seen notes written in the margins. The notes had been in the same feminine handwriting. Dante’s poetry reading probably consisted of _Where The Sidewalk Ends_ and Dr. Seuss if you counted him as a poet.

 It would be easy, then, to build on their mutual interests and make Dante feel inferior. There would be inside jokes that Dante would be incapable of comprehending.

 Vergil grinned to himself. Forget inside jokes and feelings of inferiority. He could easily seduce her. Well, perhaps not easily – it would take time. Her mindreading would require great stealth. And her behavior and attitude suggested a strong set of morals which would make it a long process to break down her resistance to an affair.

But once she did – she would likely come to talk to him, to confess what she felt and that they had to acknowledge it and end it. He would put his hands on her shoulders reassuringly, tell her everything would be all right, that if she just took a second to calm down they could talk about it. She would take a few breaths and then look up at him. There would be a pause and then she’d kiss him.

In real life, Vergil slipped his hand under the waistband of his pants to stroke his cock.

A break would follow as they thought about what had just happened and then they would decide to follow through. They would kiss again and somehow his hands would find their way under her shirt. She would wrap her arms around his neck, holding him to her. “You understand me,” she would whisper at some point in their tryst.

He’d back her against the wall and hoist her up so that her legs would wrap around his waist.

He would bring her to a climax that made her slump against him. Of course, he wouldn’t be tired from their actions and he would carry her to bed for another round. This time with all their clothes off. He would undress her slowly, giving her time to catch her breath and to enjoy her. 

Again they would join and –

It ended too quickly, unintentionally. Vergil flung the covers off and shoved his now soiled clothes off. If he knew how to work the washing machine, he would take care of them himself. As it was, he planned to wait a while longer and when he would have gotten the drink of water, rinse the clothes in the sink.

It was like when he had wet the bed as a small child. The shame was like a cold shower. But the shame of premature ejaculation and soiling his clothes was nothing compared to the shame of lusting after Sayari. He hadn’t even thought of her as _her_ when he’d fantasized of his conquest. The first person to face him as _himself_ and just accept him. Nico, Trish, Lady – even Nero had looked at him first as V, half-trusted, uncertain. But she had summoned him first, didn’t brush him aside, and he’d fantasized about her like an object.

When they had been children, Vergil used to write his name and initials on his things. Back then, it had been a ward against Dante just helping himself to whatever he wanted, a way of asserting boundaries. I am me, I may be a twin but I am a whole on my own. And she had seen that and acknowledged that, a twin herself. He should have seen, should have known that people didn’t have to shout that, didn’t have to write their names on themselves.

_You were so focused on yourself, you forgot everyone else’s selves_. He could hear V’s voice in his head. It was his voice too, after all.

 

* * *

 

Sparda’s left foot was in Dante’s face when he opened his eyes. The shower had just shut off and he heard the curtain slide on the rail. A few minutes later, Sayari emerged from the bathroom to rifle through her top drawer.  “Runs,” she responded to his unasked question, holding up a pair of nylons.

Once upon a time, she’d asked him to wear a pair. Not for a sex kink, but rather she wanted to watch him transform into his devil form and just watch the stockings fall apart.

She returned to the bathroom to continue getting dressed and doing her makeup.

Carefully, so as not to wake the kids, Dante extracted himself from the bed and went into the bathroom.

“Zip?” Sayari asked, holding her hair up and turning so he could pull the zipper on her dress closed all the way. She’d gotten it most of the way. After zipping her dress, Dante kissed the back of her neck. “Thank you,” she let go of her hair and it fell on him. He laughed.

She picked up her makeup bag and selected an eyeshadow palette. “Be kind to Vergil today, ok? Yesterday was rough.”

Dante hopped up onto the counter and dumped out her bag. He’d watched her do her makeup so often he could guess what she’d want next and sort them out. “Yeah, I know the feeling. It’s difficult to learn your brother spawned.” He set out the eye pencils and she handed him the palette before picking a pencil. “Say, what have you gathered about Nero’s mom?”

Sayari removed the cap and with intense focus, outlined her eyes. Then she shook her head.

“Fine, you’re not going to tell me. But seriously, inquiring minds wanna know.” She reached for her mascara and he held it up over his head. “Anyone tell you you’re adorable?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”  She ignored his lifted arm and picked out a lipstick.

“Whoa, whoa – lips _before_ breakfast?”

The cap of the lipstick made a light click sound as it was removed. She brushed the stick over Dante’s lips, marking him with the makeup. “It’s Shaleena’s birthday today, we’re having breakfast catered to the office.”

“Ooh, bring me cake?”

She finished her makeup and went to kiss her kids goodbye. In order to kiss Sparda, she had to lift the covers at the foot of the bed.

“I swear, that kid,” Dante walked her down the stairs, arm around her shoulders. “Do you remember when they’d turn and we could see it happen?” She shuddered at the memory. Feeling the kicks had been adorable and incredible – but seeing the outlines of their hands, their feet, watching them rotate in her womb – absolutely terrifying. She’d felt like they were about to break through her skin and fall out. Irrational, maybe, but she couldn’t help it. “That was mostly him.”

They stopped at her office and she gathered her things. “Shabbat tonight, remember,” she reminded him. “Could you put the crockpot on in a few hours? It’s in the fridge, you just need to set it up and it’ll cook on its own.”

 

* * *

 

His brother in the kitchen wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. As a child, Dante was prone to pilfer sweets and cookies. Vergil did the most of the sneaking as he was faster, Dante was often the distraction. But watching him check on the contents of a crockpot and measure out ingredients was different. The measured ingredients went into a mixing bowl and Vergil realized Dante was doing some additional cooking. “What are you making?” Vergil asked, wary.

 “Waffles. They’re what I’m making for lunch.”

“That is a _breakfast_ food.”

“Yeah, well, funny story – at the end of Yom Kippur, Jews have this special meal called 'break fast' and it’s not pancakes and cereal and Pop Tarts. It’s whatever they want it to be – brisket, chicken, pizza –“ Vergil rolled his eyes. “’Cause breakfast is just break and fast shoved together, meaning you resume eating. So breakfast is whenever you eat again.”

Vergil sighed. “You don’t understand the concept of a fast, do you? It lasts longer than a few hours. Lunch is not breaking a fast.” He poured himself some more hot water and added a fresh tea bag to the mug. The mug was decorated with an anthropomorphic raisin with horns, fangs, and a pointy tail. It held a pitchfork and had the words “Hell-Raisin” written under it. It had been handed to him with a giggle by Hallie when he’d asked for tea.

 “You just don’t know how to cook anything other than waffles, yes?” Vergil asked, absolutely sure of it.

“I’ll have you know I can cook plenty of things.”

 Vergil leaned out of the kitchen and called to the kids who were playing video games. “Can Dan- can your father cook?”

“Yes!” Sparda called back while Hallie yelled, “Some stuff.”

“Anything other than waffles?”

“Chicken nuggets! Hot dogs! Mac and cheese! Peanut butter sandwiches!”

It had been years since Vergil had really been around food, but even he recognized that a good percentage of those foods were prepackaged and required minimal preparation. Frozen chicken nuggets had been around when he was a child. Hot dogs just needed to be heated. None of it was actual cooking, but it was slightly more than he had expected his brother to do.

He took a sip of tea and then smirked at Dante.

Dante didn’t see it as he pulled out the waffle iron and set it up. But he didn’t need to, he knew Vergil and what Vergil was trying to do. “Quick question – what can _you_ cook? I mean, hell, V was falling apart, I bet you survived on like those fake meal replacement bars or something.”

Vergil left the kitchen. It was true that as V, he had survived on prepackaged food. Most of the fresh food in the grocery stores had spoiled or were of questionable state. Plus, he didn’t know many recipes off the top of his head and going into restaurants or homes meant more work and more exposure to demons than affordable at the time. V’s weak human body blacked out without sufficient food or water – unlike Urizen’s demonic one or even Vergil’s normal self. Dante had survived a month without food or water and still managed to defeat him.

Sometimes Griffon would fly off and return with granola or protein bars. Luckier times allowed him to use a microwave to make macaroni and cheese or heat up soup.

He sat down on the couch behind the twins and watched them play.

The TV showed two cars racing each other. One was hot pink and the other a green with yellow lightning on the side. They weren’t egging each other on, instead focused on their own tracks as they dodged random objects and sped around curves.

Fairly soon, Dante called them into the kitchen for lunch. He took the already prepared waffles from the oven where they’d been keeping warm. “Here, Verge. Prepared especially for you.”

It was a well-done waffle, not burned or underdone. He had decorated it with chocolate chips to form a smiley face. And on the mouth, there were a few well-placed raspberries to indicate the face was sticking its tongue out at him.

 

* * *

 

As the family prepared for Shabbat, Vergil stared at the candlesticks.

“I don’t want grape juice!” Sparda complained as Dante pulled the bottle out of the fridge. “I hate grape juice!” 

“It’s for your sister,” Dante reminded him, indicating the bottle of strawberry-kiwi juice already out. 

“Grapes are yummy,” Hallie replied, setting the silverware around the plates.

What was the point of this ritual? Vergil wondered. And why would they even bother with it in a house full of devilish offspring? Sayari, of course, was free to do whatever she wished, but involving the whole lot of them? He could stab Dante through the chest and Dante would be only mildly annoyed. Wasn’t that enough to keep this to herself? To make her see the folly of this?

“Can I say the blessing?” Hallie asked when they were ready. She took the matches from her mom and lit the candles.

Candles blessed, Sayari said the blessing over the wine and juice. The kids, Dante, and Sayari drank theirs but Vergil left his untouched. Dante shot him a look, but Sayari just shook her head at Dante and muttered, “Shalom bayit.”

The challah blessing was the last step and then they were able to eat.

Seriously. How did Dante not roll his eyes? Vergil could barely suppress his distaste and he had better control of himself than Dante. Demons praying to God – what ridiculous nonsense. It was almost as bad as that lunatic demon he’d met before he’d gone to Fortuna. The deification of his father made some sense to Vergil. Demons had powers humans didn’t. But if God did exist (and Vergil cared not at all to even consider the question, much less pick a side of the argument), then demons praying to it was twisted, like a kicked dog groveling after its master.

Actually, now that he thought about it in those terms, he would prefer to not believe in God. He was his own master. He would bow to no one ever again.

The chicken was delicious though.


	10. Chapter 10

Kelly had dyed her hair since Dante saw her last. Previously her hair had been purple and pink but now it was black with green ends.

She rang up her customer and wished them a pleasant day. As the woman buying the crystals or incense or cards or whatever turned to leave, she saw Dante. Her jaw fell and then she fumbled under her counter for something. She found it, pulled it out, and shot Dante.

He winced. “Ow!” He rubbed his nose. “I’ve heard of snorting stuff out your nose, but water being shot up isn’t all that common… I don’t recommend it.”

Kelly put the super soaker away and the passengers went about their business with a few looks exchanged. The good thing about being in a shop that catered to wiccans and New Age fans was that most of them were ok with a little strangeness. It was almost a prerequisite to wander about this street and this city in general.

He’d made bets with Morrison and Patty about how soon Kelly’s shop would close when she first set up business. For the most part, Kelly seemed normal. “Witch Better Have My Stuff” could just as easily have come from any woman trying to ignore the negative connotation of the word ‘witch’. Her shop windows were decorated with cute accessories (or what Patty called ‘cute’ and he called ‘unrealistic’). Brooms of different colors and styles (there were broom styles, he learned, which shocked him. He’d always thought there was just one style: broom.) were held by mannequins sporting gothic style dresses and cloaks.

The store also sold crystals, tarot cards, incense, incense burners, certain herbs, crystal balls, Ouija boards, and books.

Kelly left her register to hug Dante. “Can’t believe you’re actually back! I was starting to think maybe I could expand.”

“Sorry, you and the rest of the hounds will have to wait a lot longer before you can argue over my stuff. But, speaking of my shop, can I borrow your phone? Morrison must’ve turned the phone off to save money.”

Kelly gestured at the counter and for him to help herself. She then attended to a customer while Dante dialed Morrison’s number.

After he talked to Morrison, he hung up and left. On his way out, he waved to Kelly.

She gestured back at him, trying to keep him from leaving, but he continued out the door, onto the street, and back to his shop.

The place had been cleaned up since he’d left. Before there had been pizza boxes and napkins littered near the desk. They were gone and it smelled faintly of lemongrass and sage.

Sage…

He sniffed again.

Someone had cleansed the place in more ways than one. Patty might have done the physical cleaning but the saging of the place most likely had been done by Kelly. What prompted her to do that? Common courtesy? Or had something prompted her?

“So you’re alive, you son of a bitch,” Morrison swung open the door.

“Sayari _called_ you. _We_ spoke on the phone.”

“Yeah,” Morrison took out his cigar case and removed one. “So? You’re seriously trying to imply that after everything you and I have seen and been up against, voices over the phone cannot be interfered with? For all I knew, this was a trap and you were still…” he gestured vaguely. Then he snipped off the end of the cigar with his cigar guillotine and rummaged for his lighter.

“Thanks for looking after the place,” Dante settled into his desk chair and picked up the phone. No dial tone. “I see you saved some cash.”

“The rent ain’t free,” Morrison found his lighter and lit up. “My name’s on the accounts too and I ain’t interested in getting late fee phone calls.”

In a few hours, Lady and Trish arrived. It was a bit like business returning to normal. Only this had more pleasantries exchanged – Lady even brought a pizza with only one slice covered in olives. “That’s for keeping everyone out of the loop.”

“They don’t exactly have phones in hell,” Dante reminded her, tossing a few olives into the trash. Worthless things no matter what shit anyone said, no matter how many references there were to olives and their precious oil in the Bible or cooking shows. He picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite.

“Cut the crap,” Lady snapped. “You know exactly what I mean. You knew V was part of Vergil from the beginning. You knew what we were going up against and you just…didn’t say anything.”

Dante took another bite. “Yeah, I had an idea of it. But I wasn’t sure –“

“Classic,” Lady rolled her eyes.

Trish laughed. ”Honestly, the reason Dante married a telepath is because he doesn’t communicate.”

“Neither do you,” Lady reminded her, both teasingly and with actual annoyance.

Morrison took a piece of pizza and settled in to watch the women chastise Dante.

 

* * *

 

 

The demoness wandered through the garden. As she went, she touched the plants. Her fingers, over the years, had lengthened and the skin thinned. Her nails had changed too, become claws. Her hair was currently a mix of pinks and blues. Her human counterparts had looked at aging with horror at the changes to their bodies. For her, the biggest change had happened a long, long time ago. Age was the least of her concerns.

“My lady,” a demon on nine legs approached her, keeping its body steady with its unmatched leg when it stood still. “My lord sent a message to say he is running late, apparently a temptation has gone well.”

She rolled her eyes. She had never had a mirror in her first incarnation but she knew from millennia of observation that her eyes were not like theirs. Had hers ever been like theirs? Her irises and pupils had switched places – then her irises and the whites of her eyes were combined. So they were black with a circle of green-brown in each one.

“Perhaps he could remember he called me,” she muttered to herself, plucking a petal from a nearby plant. There was enough poison in that single petal to bring down two human men.

She found a Qliphoth and sat beneath it. Its tendrils wafted past her, sniffing her out, and then wafting before her. Could a tree be confused? She lovingly flicked at the tendrils.

There was a branch looking like it needed some extra care. She stood up and went to work caring for it, roughly smoothing its bark. Finished with that, she moved on to caring for the plants in the garden, watering them with blood, adding the fertilizer, and standard gardening techniques.

Had she ever cared for the plants in Eden like this? Maybe on the first day, but certainly not for long. It hadn’t taken her long before she left. 

“It looks beautiful, Lee-lee.”

Lilith turned around, watering can in hand. “Oh, I see you were finally able to join me.”

Samael lowered his six wings, a sign that he was finished flying. “My apologies,” the Angel of Death extended his hand to her. “But there’s only so many times you can tempt world leaders to commit treason.”

“And what of our traitor?”

 “He’s been found. Would you care to do the honors?”

Lilith had long ago tired of the death of her children. One hundred every day, according to the agreement. It no longer interested her. She used to rage and weep, but now she ignored it. She used to beg for intervention but now figured it was worthless. “I’m tired, Sam. You deal with it. Just…where do we stand with the thief?”

“Well, I will admit at first I was just toying with him. They were already so inclined to fight, I just gave them some –“

“Some fodder to kill – “ Lilith sighed.

“Lee-lee,” his wings ruffled, a sign that he was upset.

“Whatever, Sam. What’s the plan for Vergil ben Sparda?”

“Nothing. I’m going to let him stay where he is. I can think of no place better to torture him than where he is. His brother’s family surrounds him – all the signs of Dante’s success and Vergil’s failure. I mean – his emotional state as it is, is grossly…when he split himself in two? His human half was…how do the humans say? Emo? He was emo, Lee-lee. I can do nothing to him that’s worth what he’ll go through now.”

Lilith laughed. “You called me back here to tell me this? That you’re doing nothing?”

Samael’s middle right wing reached out and brushed at her hair. “That’s not at all why I called you here.”

Lilith let her husband’s wing caress her. “Why have you called me then?”

He produced a list in his hand and held it up. “It’s almost award season. What havoc shall we reap?”

Lilith’s smile turned genuine and loving. “Do you remember that streaker at the ’74 Oscars? How about something even more memorable?”

 

 

* * *

 

Demons, as a general rule, didn’t go to the beach. Or rather, they didn’t go for fun. It wasn’t their idea of fun, usually. There were some who enjoyed it, but they were few and far between. Regardless of those oddballs, Vergil had not been to the beach since his mother had been alive. Fortuna had a beach but he hadn’t been there for fun. The boat had just docked there.

Next to him on the sand, Sayari reapplied her sunscreen. Hallie had gotten her back when she’d put it on earlier but now Hallie was in the water with Sparda. If Vergil believed in God, he might pray that he not be asked. Of course, she could hear his thoughts and tell that he was uncomfortable, so maybe he could just pray to her?

Which sounded like a dumb idea for a demon, actually. Demons didn’t pray to anything.

But he was also at a beach.

Wearing _swim trunks_.

 _Lounging on a towel with flowers_.

What kind of demon was he? 

“Hey!” Dante called out as he approached.

Oh thank – whoever? Whatever? Fuck it, it was an expression.

“Hey!” Sayari called back, waving. “How’d it go?”

He talked to her about the shop – that dilapidated mess of a store that Dante called a business. How shameful it was that he had been forced to go to _that_ place to ask for _Dante’s_ help to clean up his own mess.

As he spoke, he passed Vergil a bag from a sandwich shop. It also contained a bag of potato chips and some napkins. They had brought a cooler of drinks to the beach, so he hadn’t needed to buy any drinks, much less juggle that many cups. Not that it wasn’t doable, but outside of fighting, Vergil didn’t think graceful was an adjective to go with Dante. _He_ could do it, perhaps. But he wouldn’t. The kids had legs, they could walk. They had hands, they could carry their drinks.

The twins came scrambling out of the water and sank down on their beach towels. Sparda had a towel decorated with fish while Hallie’s just had large colorful dots. Dante passed them their food and Sparda immediately began complaining. “Dad! These are _cheese_ chips! I hate cheese chips!”

“Hmmm? Must be a mix-up, check your bags, guys.”

Hallie pulled out her own bag of potato chips. Salt and vinegar. “We’re not sharing,” she told Sparda quietly.

“Salt and vinegar is only _a little_ better than cheese. The only good flavors of chips are plain and barbecue.”

“Here,” Sayari passed over the bag of chips that had been with her sandwich. She took the bag of offending cheese chips from Sparda and they began to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to lore, Lilith was the first wife of Adam who became a demon after refusing to submit to Adam and running away from Eden.
> 
> Lilith was offered the chance to return to Eden and Adam or face having hundreds of her children die every day for the rest of eternity. She opted not to go back. It was a common practice hundreds of years ago for Jewish women to hang amulets to ward off Lilith when they were pregnant/giving birth, as Lilith was known to kill babies and mothers.
> 
> The only description of angels with wings in Jewish lore comes from the book of Ezekiel. I made up Lilith's appearance. And though I didn't mention it, she's got chicken-style feet like all Jewish demons.
> 
> She calls Vergil "ben Sparda" because "ben" is the Hebrew word for "son". If I got the declension wrong for Sparda's name, let me know and I'll fix it.


	11. Chapter 11

There was a problem, Sayari realized as the employee handed her the form. She thanked the worker anyway and stared at the form. There were six different options listed for taking the GED test. There were the standard reasons – home-schooled, expelled, and imprisoned. But the others: alternative education, court ordered, emancipated teens – all those required accompanying documentation. Vergil’s state issued ID was forged, just like Dante’s had been. There was a reason he wasn’t attached to any of her accounts. The legal loops to jump through had been too tricky for Dante to care about until he wanted things that required he jump.

This posed a hurdle she needed to think about. She’d place some calls, see if anyone could give her suggestions as to where to go next. Hopefully they would be acceptable to Vergil.

She deposited the form into her bag anyway, just to show him.

Home was quiet. Dante and Vergil had gone off to Devil May Cry and the kids were at friends’ houses. She had a few hours to herself and to make calls and fill out paperwork.

The upcoming school year provided the usual headaches of forms but this year she and Dante had to add Vergil to the list of approved adults the school could release Hallie and Sparda to. This decision had not come easily. There were plenty of reasons not to add Vergil to the emergency card, the number one being that no one was entirely sure he wouldn’t be irredeemable.

But factor in the identical twin variable and all Vergil would have to do would be pretend to be Dante and just be convincing enough to get away with the kids.

Besides, this would be a sign of trust. A gesture of good faith and good will.

She hesitated before signing it.

She did not have to turn it in. It could accidentally become ruined when coffee was spilled on it. Or lost. Or accidentally sent to the paper shredder with the other paperwork she needed to dispose of.

Signed, she moved on to other paperwork and made some calls.

While waiting for answers from a few lawyers about Vergil’s situation, she got a call from the office letting her know they would still be working on the plumbing tomorrow. She thanked them and hung up, then went back to work. The lawyers called and gave her some pointers on getting Vergil to higher education.

Surprisingly, Vergil’s situation could let him into college. She’d always thought it required some other form of educational proof, but the lawyers assured her there were ways around it. He would need to take a placement exam or exams. It wouldn’t hurt if he took some adult classes and there were those available widely. With some effort, he could get enrolled fairly soon. Obviously not for the semester beginning in September, but perhaps the next one.

That at least was a relief, there was some good news for Vergil.

She made some notes on that and then went back to work. A few more phone calls for work, updates on scheduling and some breaking news alerts, and then she got a call from the violin tutor. The first questions were standard reviews of the application she’d made Vergil fill out. Have you studied the violin before? Yes. How far did you progress? He was eight when he stopped, probably still playing beginner pieces.

Dante knocked on the door and she asked the tutor to wait a moment. She set the phone down and opened the door. “Hey, where’s Vergil?”

His mind immediately answered her: the shower, but he didn’t say that. Instead, Dante gestured at his bare chest and legs. “I bring you myself in nothing but boxers and you ask for my _brother_?”

“For the phone. The tutor has questions,” she picked up the phone again. “Sorry, I thought he was available but he’s not.” They hashed out the details and then hung up.

Sayari fished out the paperwork about the GED and handed it to Dante. He took it and read it. While he did that, she took the opportunity to just _ogle_ her husband. Despite his being home for a bit now, she hadn’t really taken a moment to just look at him.

He was a beautiful man, well-built and honed. His shoulders were broad and perfect for laying her head against. His hands were extremely skilled, able to handle any new weapon with dexterity and adept at turning her into a writhing mess.

Too bad he was seated and wearing boxers. Briefs would have shown off his very nice ass –

His confusion broke her train of thought. “I’m sorry, Vergil fits into…? None of the- Are we faking some more paperwork?”

“No, if Vergil does well enough on a college entry exam, he doesn’t need a GED or high school diploma. Do you think he’ll be ok with that compromise?”

Dante laughed and tossed the paper onto her desk. “Tell the man he’s going to university? Yeah I’d say he’ll be thrilled.”

“I didn’t say university, the basics I got was that yes, he can get in without either, but he might have to transfer from a community college to a university if that’s his wish.”

Dante shrugged. “Dumbass didn’t know paper money existed, like he’s gonna know the difference.”

Deep down, Sayari thought Vergil had a point about money. That didn’t mean she thought metal was better than paper, just that value was subjective. She wasn’t about to bring that up with Dante, considering his own attitudes towards money. He needed it like everyone else, he liked what it got him, he appreciated the hell out of her having it and earning it consistently, but he had a very…chaotic relationship with money. He was just as likely to blow it all on something he didn’t need because buying it made someone happy or he liked it and then grumble about being broke. One friend of hers introduced Dante to a financial management consultant at a work party and Sayari had to drag Dante away from him when the poor man’s thoughts began to sound like an opera record skipping.

“I think he’ll know,” Sayari shrugged. “I’ll tell him over dinner, I…would prefer you be there when I disappoint him.”

“Don’t worry, I’m always there when life disappoints him.” He said it flippantly and with cheer but she knew he wasn’t entirely joking.

 

* * *

 

The recipe card before him was simple and straightforward. A side dish, not the entrée, with only a few ingredients. It made sense, really, give the man who had a dearth of experience with food a simple recipe to make when beginning to learn how to cook. And yet…surely he could be tasked with something more difficult? This was a recipe Dante could make, and Vergil knew how little skill Dante had in the kitchen.

“Mind the measurements,” Sayari reminded him gently as she stirred the couscous into the water.

Vergil looked at the measuring spoon in his hand and then at the recipe card.

“A capital ‘t’ indicates a tablespoon, a lowercase ‘t’ means teaspoon.”

Well that vagueness could be solved simply by switching to the metric system like the rest of the civilized world.

She made no comment, but he saw a quick smile.

He finished making the dish without any other mishaps. Strangely proud of himself, he set the finished dish on the table. As a pure human, as V, he’d had limited food options and tables had been questionable. If they weren’t broken, they were dirty. Eating at one just felt laughable. So mostly he hadn’t bothered, but he found he liked sitting at a table to eat. He liked having the bowls and plates passed to him. The conversation might not have been the most sophisticated, but whereas V had eaten purely for necessity, as himself at a table, he could find pleasure in meals.

Dante got up from the couch and went into the kitchen. “Guess if you’re done, must be time for me to do my thing.”

Luckily that just meant setting the table. If Dante and Griffon were to have been a cooking challenge, Vergil would bet on Griffon. Too bad the bird was gone, it would have made for some quality entertainment.

 They had mostly finished dinner when Sayari placed her knife down and told Vergil she had some news. She didn’t classify it as good or bad, which gave him pause. Dante didn’t react, which suggested he already knew the news. Unsurprising, and it shouldn’t bother him but it did. He eyed Dante, suspecting he had something to do with it. “The violin tutor is ready for you and the violin is on its way. So music is on track, but I’m afraid you won’t be able to take the GED test. I believe you can still audit the class, which will be helpful. As you can’t take the test, you’ll need to take a placement exam and if you do well enough, you can attend community college, then later probably transfer to a university.”

Vergil kept silent and still. Dante’s eyes darted to Sayari, looking for some hint to Vergil’s reaction. He noticed, of course. So he was afraid the news would be upsetting, was he? But which part of that wasn’t better than he had figured it would be? A GED wasn’t as impressive as a diploma (but was high school any real accomplishment compared to what he had done?). Community college wasn’t as prestigious as a university, but she had said he could later transfer – so he still failed to see what was to be upsetting. He was still going to be able to get an education.

“Very well,” he replied, taking another bite.

“I’m sorry it’s another bump in the road, but you’re right, you’re still on track.”

 

* * *

 

“He took that well,” Dante commented as he got out of the shower. He grabbed a towel, but not before noticing the way Sayari’s eyes skimmed his body. She’d done that earlier that day. “See something you like?”

She scoffed and applied her face wash. “Bad line, but yes. Michelangelo should have sculpted you.”

“So the Catholic Church could chop off my dick and keep it in a box? No thanks.”

“It would be a crime to keep it in a box,” she agreed. He tossed the towel aside, earning him a frown. “What? I’m not keeping it in a box,” he pointed out. “I’d rather keep it in you.”

“Ugh, that’s even worse than before,” but she grinned and rose up to join him.

 

* * *

 

Considering what he smelled, Vergil figured he should count himself lucky Dante had deigned to put on any clothes at all. To a human, perhaps, the scent wasn’t as strong, but Vergil and Dante both had heightened senses thanks to their father. Therefore the smell of sex wafted off his twin like a water from a splashing duck. “Some of us,” he told his brother, “don’t find the smell of copulation appetizing.”

Dante shrugged. “You’re making tea, stick your nose in that. Besides, it’s not like I came down here specifically to annoy you.” He opened a cupboard and took down a box of granola bars.

Vergil checked the timer, he still had a minute and a half before his tea was properly steeped. Sayari just had prepackaged tea bags, and he preferred loose leaf. Or he had preferred loose leaf. It had been a while since he’d had tea that wasn’t in bag form. In his previous forms, V hadn’t the time to waste on the finer aspects of life and Urizen hadn’t needed or wanted tea.

“Like, I didn’t know you were going to be here, now. I just wanted a snack. A post copulation snack.” He opened a bar and took a bite. The sweet aroma of chocolate made its way to Vergil, a better scent than his brother. “Why are you up, anyway?” He spoke through his food.

Forty-five seconds. Forty-five seconds and then he could take his tea to the living room and pretend he didn’t want any sugar. Pretend he just came down for a drink and would return to his bed after.

“Someone’s activities were a bit loud,” he lied.

Dante laughed. “Hey, speaking of…”

“No.” Twelve seconds.

“No? You didn’t even hear me out!”

“I knew where you were going.” Vergil removed the bag, tossed it into the trash, and added some sugar to the tea. “And I have no intention to ever discuss that with you.”

“Fine,” Dante rolled his eyes. “Maybe you won’t talk to me about it, but you should at least think about telling Nero about his mom. I’m not the only one curious to know who she was. And Nero at least deserves to know. No, not deserves – you owe the kid some answers. It’s like those shopping rules – ‘you break it, you buy it’. Only with a kid, you make ‘em, you at least do what you can to answer ‘em.”

The handle of the mug developed a tiny crack as Vergil maintained his composure long enough for Dante to leave.

She had been warm and soft; one hand gripped his hair and the other squeezed his shoulder. She had skipped services to lie with him, joked that in a way she was praying and worshiping.

When he’d left her, it hadn’t been with the knowledge of what he was leaving behind.

If he had known…

The handle broke and the pottery’s rough edges cut into his skin. As quickly as he was cut, he healed, but blood remained on the molded clay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The GED process is based off of Virginia's requirements, as they vary state by state. I'm trying to be as vague as the series about when and where it takes place but I'm just letting you know about the GED in case it's different where you are. 
> 
> And the paper money is a nod to the Visions of V. I'm not following that in this story, but I might make a nod to it here or there.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Physical violence against a woman, speculation of domestic abuse.

“We need to talk,” Vergil announced.

Sayari placed the clean, folded washcloths on their shelf in the bathroom. Then she took out the hand towels and put them away. “I’m listening,” she told him.

“It’s about the…” he hesitated, his mind cycling through the various words: event, meeting, gathering. Then he opted to skip it. “I want you to cancel it.”

He had already considered just deciding not to go, but reasoned that wouldn’t work because Dante would 1) drag him there anyway and 2) call him a coward over it. And so he came to her while Dante and the kids were outside to try and convince her to come to his side.

“It’s the last chance to see them before school starts and Kyrie just started her new job. I know it’s intimidating.” She registered the anger that flared in Vergil at that but kept going anyway. “But that’s always going to be an issue. If we don’t go now, the next time we get a chance to get together, you’ll want to cancel for the same reason.”

“No, I won’t,” Vergil denied curtly.

She sighed. “Just go with it, all right? Kyrie is very sweet and you’ve already met Nero. I promise, it’s nothing to be frightened of.”

Anger spilled out of him and she froze in place. She was very tempted to take a step back but she also wanted him to feel trusted. But even if she did take a step back and it didn’t further irritate him, he could reach her no matter what. She had experienced Dante’s speed for herself and if Vergil could match him, she was utterly powerless before him.

Sayari took a breath and stepped forward, one hand out to make contact with his arm. A touch might calm him, might soothe his nerves like a child at school for the first time.

Instead he moved too fast for her eyes to track and the next sensation she had was of his hand around her throat. His grip tightened and she clawed at his fingers, desperate to break his hold.

His eyes were bright with ice blue light. His mind was blank to her.

The pressure at her throat hurt less than the sheer terror of being unable to breathe, of being unable to break away.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t plead.

It hurt.

Her lungs begged for air.

Her head felt like it would burst.

The last thing she saw were those icy eyes.

 

* * *

 

When she came to, Vergil sat near the door of the bathroom. Shame and guilt washed her way, along with rushed thoughts of what he could do to help her. Sensing her regained consciousness, he quietly told her he had called the paramedics.

She looked at the bottom of the tub where the caulk joined it with the floor. Dust was visible, as well as a few strands of hair and typical bathroom grime. The sight of it prompted tears to flood and she tipped her head back to keep them from spilling. His lash out hadn’t been predictable, what if her tears prompted another outburst? For the first time since she had learned how to cope with her ability, she had no idea what to do.

She wanted him to leave but was afraid he’d become upset. He would be upset no matter what, she knew that, but she didn’t want to add to the trauma he already had.

But she wanted him out of her bathroom and out of her bedroom.

She wanted him to let her fall to pieces and put herself back together on her own.

Tentatively she sat up. It was then that she felt the unpleasant feeling of wet and dirty cloth against her skin. When he had choked her, she had messed her pants. The last time she’d had an accident had been when she was pregnant and that had been bad enough, even though no one but her noticed. Likely Vergil could smell the urine and feces. At this, she couldn’t hold herself together completely. Her tears fell and Vergil shifted towards her.

Instinctively she flinched back and he backed away.

“Please,” she tried to say but her voice came out scratchy and barely audible.

Nevertheless, he heard her. “Yes?”

“Please go to the living room….I…I need to change my clothes.” Surely, he would give her this. He was _radiating_ contrition.

Vergil considered her request, parsing the specific location mentioned. To the living room meant she wanted him to stay in the house, that she wasn’t casting him out for good. But he also recognized it wasn’t just privacy she was after, it was safety. “As you wish,” he agreed.

After he left the bathroom, she waited a bit longer, then shakily stood up and glanced in the mirror. Her face was red, her eyes were bloodshot and she could see, when she leaned in closer, red dots all over her throat where his hand had been.

Her lips trembled and she pressed them together. Swallowing hurt, even more so as she began to cry.

 

* * *

“It’s turning into our driveway!” Sparda exclaimed, half confused and half excited.

“Probably lost,” Dante jumped from the tree house to the ground and instantly regretted it. Probably not a wise idea to be reckless in front of some trained medics. “Looking for Mrs. Gelman’s? It’s just past the rose bushes, you can’t miss ‘em.” Hallie and Sparda made their way down the rope but rolled their eyes at the mention of the rose bushes. When learning to roller-skate, they’d crashed into those bushes several times. She’d yelled at them and demanded they weed her garden as payment. Both thought this highly unfair as it wasn’t as if landing in rose bushes was something one did on purpose. Fast healing or not, you still got jabbed with thorns.

The first medic out of the ambulance turned to the other and asked, “This is the place, right?” the other replied with the address.

Dante looked at the kids. Then he looked at the house.

There was only one person in the household who would _ever_ need an ambulance.

He started towards the door. It opened before either he or the medics made it, Vergil standing in the frame. “This way,” he gestured inside.

If Vergil knew to let them in, that meant he had either called them or knew they were coming. He wouldn’t let them in otherwise, he’d probably ignore them if they knocked on the door. But further to the point – why hadn’t he gotten Dante _before_ the ambulance showed up?

Pressure rose in his chest and he forced it back. He would not trigger in front of these people.

Instead he bolted for Vergil, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him against the wall. The wall shook but he hadn’t given enough force to that blow to do much else. “WHAT THE _HELL_ DID YOU DO?” he snarled.

Vergil shoved him back and Dante nearly knocked a medic over as he came to a standstill, hands off of Vergil. “She’s upstairs –“

One of them continued up but the other stood between them. “Sirs, I think the two of you need to cool off. Why don’t you,” he addressed Dante, “go into the living room and you,” he turned to Vergil.

“Like hell,” Dante snapped. He planned to follow the other man up the stairs but hesistated. What should he do with the kids?

Where were the kids? Had they followed?

He looked outside and found Sparda standing on the doorstep, awkwardly looking in like he’d never seen a doorway before. Dante started to ask where Hallie was when he heard the sound of a punch, followed by, “What did you do to my mom?!”

“Hey!” the medic yelled. “We do not hit!”

“Kids, go to your rooms,” Dante ordered. “You- “ he pointed at Vergil. “You stay right where I can see you.” It was a terrible thing to tell him since right after he said it, Dante went upstairs after the first medic. Vergil and the other man followed, followed closely by the twins. Hallie had her hands balled into fists, ready to slug Vergil once more. Sparda kept a hold of the back of his sister’s shirt, just in case he needed to hold her back.

Inside the master bedroom, Sayari sat on the bed, letting the medic look her over. The first thing Dante noticed were the tearstains on her cheeks. Her makeup had been smudged first by the tears and then by either her hands or a tissue when she’d tried to dry them. The pressure in his chest doubled and heat joined.

Vergil hadn’t just hurt her, he’d made her _cry_.

Sayari made eye contact with Dante and minutely shook her head.

“I think you should come with us,” the medic said, moving casually to stand between Dante and Sayari. “You should get your throat looked at and a few scans of your head to make sure. Once oxygen gets cut off, it’s pretty dangerous. And even serious strangulation can leave few marks.”

Strangulation?

“You STRANGLED her?” Dante roared.

“Sir, please!” the second medic took a brave step towards Dante and in front of Vergil.

“Dante,” Sayari held out her hand to him. Her voice was raspy and terrified him. He hurried to her side, taking her hand. “Get Trish or Lady to watch Vergil. Have Alex or Patty watch the kids.”

It would take time to get Trish or Lady here. Better Trish, he decided.

But surely she didn’t intend to go with –

“I won’t be able to go with you.”

She nodded. “I’ll be ok.” Her gaze flickered to the medics and then back to Dante.

 

* * *

Dante slammed the car door and shoved the key into the ignition. Vergil buckled his seatbelt, thinking of Nico’s impressively reckless driving and wondering if Dante would drive the same way now.

Dante hadn’t said a thing to Vergil since the medics had taken Sayari away in the ambulance. Even when he’d made the calls, he just spoke loudly enough and in Vergil’s presence that Vergil knew what the plan was. “You’re going to stay here with Alex,” Dante told the kids, “while I take Vergil to spend some time with Trish.”

Trish made the most sense – as a demon, she was more durable than Lady. She also had the bonus of making Vergil uncomfortable with her appearance.

No one said a word until Alex arrived and then it was goodbye hugs for Dante and the kids. Sparda had cast a glance Vergil’s way, but made no move or effort to bid farewell. Hallie openly glared daggers at him. If she could have gotten her hands on something she felt would do the job properly, she would have stabbed him. A regular kitchen knife just wasn’t going to cut it.

As a child, Vergil would have killed for something to shut up Dante. His incessant chatter and need for movement had driven them to more than a handful of fights. But now, it was an unpleasant, awkward silence. There was nothing Vergil thought he should say, nor did he want to. He owed his apologies to Sayari. He offered one earlier but knew more would be needed. This wasn’t an accidental breaking of an inconsequential tchotchke. This could have cost her life.

Dante continued to drive in silence, not even turning on the radio.

Vergil turned his attention to the road signs.

Twenty minutes after they had left the house, Dante pulled into a parking lot and stepped out of the car. No one was there yet, but Vergil had no doubt that Trish would make an appearance any moment. It wasn’t as if Dante wanted to spend any more time with Vergil than necessary.

“What did she do that pissed you off so much?” Dante asked quietly.

Vergil said nothing.

“Really, Vergil, what was it? Ever since you got here – no, even before that – all she’s wanted to do was help you. She knew what you’d done and she still wanted to help you. So what, just what exactly, gave you your reason to throttle her? Was it me? Was it something I did? Something you couldn’t stand that you decided to take out on her –“

“Don’t be so selfish,” Vergil scoffed. “If I wanted to harm you, I would harm you.”

“Then what?!” Dante finally shouted. 

“Nothing I say will satisfy you.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Dante agreed with venom. “But you could at least try. Or are you too much of a coward?”

“I have said what I will say to you.”

Dante climbed back into the car and slammed the door. Vergil remained outside until Trish arrived on her motorcycle. Dante rolled down the window and talked with her quietly. Vergil purposely ignored whatever words they exchanged. Then Dante rolled up his window and drove off.

 

* * *

She wished she could go back to the CT scan room. It was quiet there. She was the only one in the room when they’d put her in the machine. The ER was loud, there were no walls, no real physical barriers, only curtains separating beds and most of the beds were full. She could hear every thought of all the staff members and the patients. The woman next to her was in excruciating pain on the left side of her jaw, going up into her eyes. She also had a headache and the nurses figured it was an abscessed tooth. Nothing they were doing for her was helping – they had given her all the pain meds they could at the moment and were running what limited tests they had available.

There was a boy with a broken arm from a bicycle fall. His mother was absolutely beside herself for not keeping a closer eye on him, but the boy was in good spirits, already thinking about the color cast he wanted.

Another woman was vomiting and hoping no one would figure out that it might have something to do with the drugs she took. She had only taken them to impress her boyfriend.

The pain cycled through with the mundane thoughts of the nurses – a patient’s breath stank and they wished they could just hand out breath mints to everyone, a few of them desperately needed to pee but couldn’t until they finished their current task. The janitor wished the boy with the broken arm had a better aim and hadn’t messed up the floor of the bathroom.

Sayari curled up with the pillow over her head, trying to block out the thoughts and sounds – or at least some input.

She hated hospitals. Hated them.

Even her father’s office had been hell.

“Ma’am?” she heard another staff member come in. This one was also a nurse but here with thoughts specifically about a domestic violence questionnaire. The EMTs had had similar thoughts. Sayari moved the pillow and sat up. “I’m Andrea O’Connell, I’m a social worker and I just have a few routine questions.”

Sayari nodded and reached for her cup of ice chips. She spooned out some and put them in her mouth. The cold water felt good on her swollen throat.

“Your chart says that this was an injury caused by your brother-in-law. Can you tell me about him?”

Sure. He’s part demon who recently returned from the Underworld after he split himself in two and his demonic half attempted to become king of the Underworld. His human half hired my husband, his brother, and my nephew to stop himself. Then they rejoined halves and he’s been living at my house ever since I summoned them.

Yeah, no.

“He was special forces, a POW, just returned home,” Sayari answered, her voice barely any better than when she’d been at home. “He’s working through his PTSD, but it’s obviously a huge struggle.” More true than not. Mundus had held him against his will and if ‘special force’ didn’t refer to demons, it might as well mean nothing.

“So this is something you knew was possible?” Sayari shrugged and nodded. “Are you afraid of him?”

“I’m afraid for him,” she corrected, taking another spoon of ice chips. Then she winced as the woman with the jaw pain began mentally screaming. Andrea thought it was potentially brain freeze.

“Are you worried about your children?”

“I’m worried Hallie won’t forgive him. It wasn’t on purpose, he was having a flashback and I startled him.” Lies, except for Hallie's part. Lord, but that girl could hold a grudge. Sparda would be more forgiving, but he would be very wary.

“He’s responsible for his actions, not you."

Sayari knew that, but she also knew that his actions hadn’t been premeditated. There had been no thought, no decision. He’d acted purely on instinct.

And if she were to be honest, that terrified her the most. She couldn’t predict that.

“Are you afraid to go home?”

“No.” She wanted to go home. She wanted to not hear all these people.

Andrea nodded, made some notes, and bade her farewell. Sayari waved goodbye and then pulled her knees to her chest and tried to think loud enough thoughts to drown everyone else out.

_**ONE THOUSAND BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, ONE THOUSAND BOTTLES OF BEER! TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT AROUND, 999 BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL**_!

She lost count several times because of interrupting thoughts and movement around her.

It was a relief when they let Dante in and he immediately took her hand in his. The other thoughts took a background role compared to his.

The doctors and nurses gave him side glances but let him stay, answered his questions, and ultimately discharged her into his care. He was to bring her back if she presented any worsening symptoms or mental confusion. Wasn’t all confusion mental? Dante thought in her direction.  She almost smiled.

Inside the car Dante asked her how she was really doing. And then she finally broke down and started sobbing. He pulled her into an awkward embrace over the center console. Car interiors were not designed for hugs but for the first time since Vergil put his hand around her throat, she felt safe and cared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! Come yell at me on Tumblr: apolla-savre.tumblr.com No, I don't know how to insert links into the notes :p


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there is discussion of vomiting during sex

Movement in the bed made him sit up and take a look at where his family slept. Sayari climbed over Hallie and made her way to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and Dante heard the lock click. In the bed, Hallie rolled over into the warm, vacant spot.

Dante stood up from the window seat. Had she locked the door to keep the kids out? For a moment of privacy that came so rarely? Or was it to keep him out?

He used his demonic senses to spy on her. Normally he wouldn’t. But he needed to know she was ok, if she had any difficulty walking or breathing like the doctors had told him to look out for. He listened to her steps to the toilet and then ignored her for a minute. Even though it had been a while since he’d last spied on her this way, it came almost naturally.

Sparda stirred in the bed and moved down, a wiggling lump, until he finally exited from the end of the bed. He had to maneuver himself on his hands until his legs reached a spot that he could get his feet on the ground. Then he stood up and headed for the hall.

“Can’t you just get out of bed like a normal person?” Dante asked.

“Mom says _you’re_ not allowed to ask that.”

“What? Why not?”

But Sparda was already out in the hall and not paying any attention to Dante. The bathroom door opened and Dante immediately turned his attention to his wife. “Why not?” he asked.

She hesitated and he made sure to focus his thoughts on what Sparda had said. She must have been thinking of something else, not listening. Should he be concerned? He was concerned. Was it unwarranted, though? Was it fair to expect her to pay attention to a conversation outside of the room when she’d woken up only a few minutes ago? No, of course not.

But the nagging thought of ‘she normally listens’ piped up in the back of his mind.

“How many doors have you kicked down that you could have just used the knob?”

“Well…a few, but that has nothing to do with climbing out of bed.” Her voice had been raspy but given the circumstances, sounded better than he had expected.

“You can’t talk about normal exits if you yourself don’t make normal ones…or entrances.”

He thought of the time he’d shot the Order of the Sword’s leader during a worship service. That had definitely been an unconventional entrance, but it wasn’t every day you got to shoot a pope. Or whatever the proper term for head of a religious order was.

“Fair enough,” he agreed. Sayari climbed back into bed, adjusting the blankets around Hallie so as not to disturb her. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” she closed her eyes. “You know what it’s like sleeping next to these two.”

“No headaches?”

“Just you,” she replied, but with a teasing smile. Then she patted the bed next to her. Dante joined her.

“Do you remember when we found out Hallie was in the right position to be born and Sparda was still, like, ass first?” Sayari nodded, catching on to where he was going. “Do you think behavior before birth is how they’re gonna act once they’re born?” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. She rested her head against his shoulder.

“Maybe a little bit, but probably not. I mean, remember Sophie’s Superbowl party? She had those amazing fried pickles? I ate like all of them.” Dante laughed, remembering how people had given her the ones from their plates when she’d realized they were all gone. “Both kids hate pickles.”

Dante remembered the late night runs for sour candies and the time she ate a whole lemon in front of Lady. Dante had seen Lady face demons, get covered in ichor and blood and complain about the cleaning bill, see mutilated beings without outwardly flinching, but the sight of a human eating a lemon had shocked Lady so much she’d squeaked. “What are you doing???” she’d demanded as Sayari dipped a segment into sugar and put it in her mouth.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.

“If there’s a problem, I’ll tell you. But, truth be told,” she lowered her voice, to keep Hallie from overhearing. “Do you remember that time I used that numbing spray? To fit you?”

He hated to admit it, but it had always been a fantasy to be deepthroated. The fact that he was too big was an extreme disappointment. Of course, Sayari had picked up on that, so she’d invested in some throat spray and a few fairly good-sized dildos to practice on. Unfortunately when she finally felt ready, Dante had been too excited and rather than stay still, thrust into her mouth.

His over-enthusiasm prompted her gag reflex to kick in and she’d gagged. That created a struggle, he’d almost thrusted again and she gagged again, hard. Hard enough to bring up bile and phlegm, some of which got on him...

It hadn’t been pleasant for either of them.

“Sort of reminds me of that – a deep throat bruise.”

“Don’t say that,” he grumbled, awkwardly fidgeting. He didn’t like the idea of their sex life and Vergil’s aggression sharing a name. Or sharing anything.

“Why not? They’re both bruises, deeper than the surface of my skin, and my throat.”

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “Let’s just not.”

“Very well…we have another problem, though.” He gave her a questioning look. “Sparda made coffee.”

The door opened and Sparda walked in with a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of juice. “Coffee’s getting hot.” Sayari sat up and accepted the breakfast.

“What, nothing for me?” Dante asked.

“You’re fine! Mom’s sick.”

“I’m not sick,” she replied, stirring the brown sugar into the oatmeal more thoroughly.  “Just injured.”

* * *

The coffee and tea shop wasn’t far from Dante’s shop, but far enough away to be in a more gentrified area of the city. There was an antique bookshop down the street, a vegan and vegetarian Mexican restaurant, and an old fashioned malt shop. Truth be told, it wasn’t an area Vergil would have anticipated Trish frequenting. Yet she got waves and greetings beyond the standard, they called her by her name. “The usual?” they asked. She nodded and then added an order of half a dozen lemon lavender donuts to go. And whatever Vergil ordered.

He stared at the menu for a long time before deciding on a croissant and a cup of tea. They started to brew it and Vergil sat at a table to wait. Trish collected some napkins, a couple stirring sticks, and chatted with one of the baristas.

“Hey, Dante,” a woman greeted Vergil as she walked in the door. She was striking with her black- green hair and a small silver nose ring. “Whoa,” she took a step back. “You…are _not_ Dante.”

“No, I am not.” He agreed.

“Pity, you should show him how you do your hair. His is always a disaster.” She held out her hand. “I’m Kelly. I run Witch Better Have My Stuff – a new age store.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve seen that store.” He had, both as V and on the drive over to the coffee shop this morning.

“Come on in and I’ll give you a free reading – tarot, palm, tea leaf, however you’d like.”

“No thank you,” whatever fortune she had to tell him probably wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Your choice,” she shrugged and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, which had several earrings and a cuff. “Your turn to introduce yourself.”

Trish set their drinks on the table and a waiter handed Vergil his croissant on a plate. “His name’s Vergil.”

“Dante and Vergil, your parents must have been classics fans or Italian. Lead your brother through hell yet?”

“Yes.”

She laughed. Then to Trish asked, “Hey, Dante said that guy was still around – have you seen him?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Trish admitted, a coy smile on her lips.

“Well, next time you see him, give him my number.” She turned to Vergil. “It was nice to meet you, kick Dante for me when you see him – I’ve known him for years and he never mentioned a brother. Totally rude.” She waved and went up to the counter where a barista had her order ready.

“She thought V was hot,” Trish remarked, sipping her coffee. “She wants you to have her number.”

Vergil ignored that in favor of his tea.

* * *

Instead of taking her motorcycle, Trish had hired a taxi so she could bring him back to the house. She would have preferred the motorcycle, it was her favorite method of human transportation. Without Yamato, Vergil couldn’t travel like she could. And she had no intention of speeding this up beyond what had been agreed. Dante had pined after the telepath once the job of saving her life had ended. He kept news articles about her accomplishments and when they got together again, Trish realized Dante had never been so happy. Bringing Vergil back after what he did…did not sit well with her.

She placed the box of donuts between them and buckled her seatbelt. Vergil buckled himself in while Trish gave the driver the address.

“I know Kelly told you to kick Dante, but don’t.”

“I didn’t plan on it.”

“Good.” They didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. Though the driver attempted small talk, only Trish engaged with him.

Upon their arrival, Trish paid, and then they had to get out of the car.

Trish easily crossed over the threshold, donuts in hand. He could hear the kids demanding to have a donut and then their reactions when they learned they were lemon lavender.

Vergil took a step inside the place and the bemoaning the kids were doing fell silent. Hallie gave him a death glare. Sparda didn’t even look in his direction.

Sayari patted Trish’s arm, “It’ll be ok. You can go whenever you want, but if you’re interested, we’re having chicken and sweet potatoes.”

Her neck was free of bruises that he could see. He didn’t know that much about human physiology, but given the roughness of her voice, he had done some damage.

Trish stayed until after dinner. Until after Sayari told Vergil that they were still going to go see Nero tomorrow. When she felt Vergil accepted it, she felt it was ok to go.

* * *

Vergil could think of fewer things he would like to do less than go to a county fair, but admittedly he didn’t know much human things he could do. Still, a county fair with its “rides” and fried food (what was an elephant ear?), and rigged games – just why bother? He would meet with Nero when he was ready.

On his own terms.

But nothing was ever on his terms.

They parked and the kids were out the door in seconds, headed straight for the ticket booth so they could ride the rides. The adults followed, Vergil glancing around, waiting for Nero to materialize.

The first time he’d seen his son, he’d removed part of his arm. And then he’d misled him, thinking he was Dante’s son, to kill his demon half. Throughout the whole ordeal, he’d told him snippets, confessions he’d never told to anyone, partially because he’d never had the chance before and partially because he had felt something for the boy – an obligation. He’d gravely injured him, while at the same time his actions might kill Dante. Vergil knew what it was like to lose a parent, he didn’t wish to cause Nero that same pain. Though it turned out his belief was completely twisted.

Dante paid for the tickets and handed them to the kids and a strip to Vergil. Vergil looked at the small orange rectangles with the words ONE TICKET printed on each of them. Why bother to say “one ticket” on each? Surely that was obvious?

“There they are!” Sparda jumped up, pointing towards the parking lot.

Indeed, there he was, Nero, holding hands with a petite auburn-haired girl.


	14. Chapter 14

So this was Kyrie. Vergil studied her as Nero introduced them. She looked less like a follower of the Order of the Sword and more like the other young women Vergil had seen. Instead of a high collared, ankle length white dress, she wore a simple summery tank top and shorts. Her hair was done in a braid. When Sayari nudged him, Vergil extended his hand to Kyrie in greeting. The young girl took his hand in both of hers. “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Nero’s told me so much.”

Vergil hid the wince from all but Sayari. There was nothing good that Nero could tell her of him. Not that he could imagine. As V, he’d misled Nero, used him. As himself, he’d ripped Nero’s arm off and then barely said twenty words to him.

Dante nudged him. “I have…wondered about you, as well,” Vergil said politely. “I wouldn’t have thought hunting demons and a romantic life would coexist but then there’s you and Sayari as evidence to the contrary.”

Sparda mimed puking, he didn’t know what Vergil meant but he heard the word “romantic” and that was enough. “Can we go already?!”

Debate then burst out between Nero and the kids about what they should do first: games or rides. Hallie insisted upon games, thinking of the giant stuffed frog she’d failed to win last year. Sparda and Nero insisted upon the rides.

“How about we go in first?” Dante countered, definitely wanting the rides to win. “We can pick from what we see first.”

“Or we could split into groups,” Vergil pointed out the logical solution.

Immediately, Dante shot him a peeved look. “I can’t take you anywhere, listen to you, being all logical at a county fair. This is a place where logic is useless, cotton candy is a fruit, and deep-fried Twinkies are vegetables.”

Vergil ignored him, mostly because he didn’t want to admit he had no idea what a deep-fried Twinkie was. The name ‘Twinkie’ sounded familiar but he couldn’t place it anywhere. Probably something from long, long ago.

Eventually they picked a few games before going on their first ride: the Gravitron. It was designed to look like a space ship, it even had star shaped lights and an illuminated sign reading STARSHIP 3000. It probably looked more impressive at dusk or night as opposed to the mid-morning.

Sayari opted not to ride. Dante looked at her and she smiled reassuringly at him, as if to say she was fine. Vergil figured the ride was either too scary for her or made her sick.

“You going?” Nero asked Vergil.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

“Nope, you pass the height restrictions. Doubtful you’ll find it much of a thrill after the Underworld,” Dante went to give some tickets to the ticket taker.

And so Vergil ended up entering the ride expecting the thrill of a merry-go-round. Which was to say: not much.

There were a number of panels along the wall and the kids picked out two, standing in front of them with large grins. They each took one panel and Dante nudged them aside so he could stand between them. “Gotta leave space for bigger people,” he said. Vergil moved to stand next to Hallie but she shot him a look and he instead let Kyrie stand there. He wouldn’t stand between Nero and Kyrie, nor would Nero let him, so he waited until the rest were in place before he took a panel.

There was a man occupying a chair in the middle and he greeted each new rider as they came in. When the ride was full, he gave a spiel that Vergil ignored. The ride started and gained speed. It was less like a merry-go-round than he had anticipated. The perspective was different. Rather than seeing the stationary world as they turned ‘round, the center stayed mostly stationary, but even the man’s little booth could swivel, and it did.

The force held them in place as they spun and then the walls – their panels – shifted, turning some sideways, but all of them up.

They were immobile. He was immobile.

_A son of Sparda – did you truly believe you could defeat me with so little effort?_

He was bound. Controlled by an invisible presence.

 _And now, son of the traitor, offspring of a nothing human, you will bow to me. You will kneel_.

His knees bent and he was forced down.

_Son of Sparda no longer. If Sparda wished to fight against me, against our kind, then you have no recognition of demonic force in you. Would that you had been an angel…an angel… Vergil? The poet laureate of the Romans? No longer. You shall be Nelo Angelo – all will know your name and know what you are: the fallen._

Heat coursed through his veins and ice flowed through his arteries. His heart struggled to pump.

There was a touch to his face. “-my voice. Focus…on my voice…alone. You are safe, it was merely a ride. Listen to me, Vergil. Vergil, Nero is here. Your son is here. Dante is here. You are not alone and you are safe. Can you tell me who I am?”

Her face was blurry but rapidly clearing. Sayari. Her bare hand was against his cheek and she brushed his hair gently with her gloved hand. “Are you with me?”

He was on the floor, must have collapsed when the ride ended.

He pulled away, ashamed. Her rough voice only further shamed him. Not only was he needing comfort, but the woman offering him comfort was someone he had lashed out at before for comforting him.

There were a number of humans gathered around him, watching. One woman kneeling next to Sayari introduced herself as a nurse and asked him if he was diabetic. Vergil pushed himself to his feet and strode away from the crowd.

Sayari sighed and rose to her feet as well. Dante handed her the glove she’d removed and she slipped it back on her hand. “Nero, you need to talk to him. You’re the only one he’ll accept help from.”

“Me?” Nero asked, baffled.

“He’s already depended on you for help before,” she reminded him.

Kyrie nudged Nero in the direction Vergil had gone.

 

* * *

 

“Probably wasn’t fair of us not to tell you what happens on that ride,” Nero said.

Vergil folded his arms behind his back. “I was not bothered by motion sickness or fear –“

“No, of course not,” Nero agreed. Vergil narrowed his eyes. At least as V and Urizen, Nero had told him his honest opinion. “It’s just…y’know, warnings are helpful for other things. And you’ve never been on one of those rides before, right? So you should always be told.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Aren’t I supposed to?” Nero grinned. “You’re my father.”

At that, Vergil chuckled appreciatively. “I see you have some knowledge and appreciation of Latin, but no, it would be the other way around.”

Nero recounted how he’d had to take some classes on it while training for the Order. At the time, he hadn’t thought it would be useful. And mostly, it wasn’t. But he’d taken it and he’d done…well, he stopped taking it as soon as they let him and he passed with a decent enough grade. Probably would have been a higher grade if he’d actually applied himself.

They had a good laugh at that. “…Wanna tell me what you went through back there?”

“No.”

Nero rubbed the back of his neck, exasperated. “Y’know, you said you wanted to be loved and protected. It’s kinda impossible if you don’t, y’know, _let_ yourself be loved and protected.”

Vergil's eyes glittered with suspicion. “Tell me, Nero. Do you love me?” 

Nero knew he should say yes, but instead he kept silent. He looked down at the ground, ashamed that he couldn’t give the correct answer.

“I thought not. And why would you? I thought you were Dante’s child, I planned to use you –“

“You ripped my arm off!” Nero snapped.

“Technically,” Vergil agreed. “But Yamato was never yours.”

“Fuck,” Nero swore under his breath, aware that children were passing by and if Kyrie found out he’d cursed in front of kids, he’d never hear the end of it. “You gotta be shitting me. Sayari’s a saint!” He started to leave but Vergil grabbed his arm and kept him in place.

“What do you mean by that?”

“When you rip off someone’s arm, you….well…you do – you choked Sayari and she still tries to help you. Meanwhile you can’t even apologize for your own actions!”

“I apologized to her.”

“To _me_!” Nero snapped, shoving Vergil’s arm back. “You ripped off my arm and left me to bleed to death! Then you asked Dante and me to help clean up your mess! How about you show some responsibility for once in your life and own up to what you did and what you didn’t do. You want to be protected and loved? Be worthy of it.” And then he walked away.

 

* * *

 

As Nero approached, Sayari pushed the spoon into her ice cream and sighed heavily. Kyrie’s eyes widened and she turned to look for Nero. “That bad?” she asked.

“Please just…take them somewhere and just talk and beat each other up,” Sayari begged Dante. “For a man who loves books so, your brother needs help with words.”

Dante moved his massive elephant ear sundae out of the way as Hallie proudly placed the giant stuffed frog at the table. “Got her!” she declared, tucking a strand of her white blonde hair behind her ear. “Should have been mine last year, teenagers don’t need stuffed animals.”

Kyrie held up her hand for a high five and Hallie enthusiastically gave her one. Then she reached for one of the spoons on the table and dug into the elephant ear sundae. “Hey! That’s mine!” Dante pulled the treat away.

“You’re sharing with Spar!” Hallie gestured at her brother.

Nero sagged down onto seat next to Kyrie. “He’s impossible!”

Dante turned his attention from the sundae to his nephew. Holding his spoon out with a shake, he declared, “Welcome to my world, been like this since I followed him out the v- err,” he glanced at his kids. Sparda watched him, curious, but Hallie had taken her opportunity and stolen the last bit of whipped cream off the sundae.

“Perhaps we should just go home,” Sayari sighed. “Thank you for trying, Nero.”

 

* * *

 

Because of her throat, Sayari didn’t sing very loudly, so Sparda took over, belting out Eliyahu Hanavi after Kyrie dunked the Havdalah candle into the Kiddush cup. The flames went out with a satisfying sizzle and the kids knew that to be the cue to start singing.

Dante hid his grin from the kids, but openly shared it with Sayari. Vergil placed his hand on top of Sparda’s head and Sparda fell silent.

Everyone wished the rest of them a good week and the day wound down until everyone was in bed or a bedroom getting ready for bed.

“Your brother is…impossible,” Sayari sighed, collapsing on the bed.

Dante jumped onto the bed with a grin. “And now you know what I went through.” He propped himself up on his fist and grinned at her. “We did talk about this,” his grin stayed but it wasn’t authentic. “And we said that if he was an ass, we’d –“

“We’re not giving up!”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his grin gone. “You are –“

She grabbed her pillow and he held up his arm to block her blow. “We have TALKED about that word!” Quickly he disarmed her.

“God, you’re stubborn,” he tossed the pillow towards the window. “But I think I have an idea that might cheer you up.” She laughed, seeing it in his mind and nodded. He rolled over and pulled out a box from under the bed and fished out a few items.

“Aw, crap,” he held up the box of glow-in-the-dark condoms. “There’s only one left.”

“I guess it’ll just be a sword fight instead of a lightsaber fight.”

He put the box back in the other box and passed her one of the jelly double-ended dildos. After she’d suggested the lightsaber dick fight to him, they’d gone to an adult store and debated the pros/cons of each type of dildo. The double-ended ones offered enough size for a decent “blade” length and also for a good grip. The jelly ones were flexible and so they’d been chosen.

The two took their positions in the room and saluted the other with their weapons. “Engarde,” Sayari bit her cheek to hid her amusement as the silicone cocks flopped towards the floor.

She had the first strike and he parried the thrust easily. Their swords bounced off the other and Dante swung slowly at her arm. She twisted away and swung again. The dildos met with an awkward slap and bounced away from each other. Sayari jumped up onto the bed, something Dante couldn’t do since his head would hit the ceiling. She brought a blow down towards his head and he spun out of reach, deflecting with his own sword.

Dante rarely let her get a hit in – but she did get some. She got more hits but they were far from what he could do.

The dildos met with a hearty smack and Dante noticed something was up with his. “Time out!” Sayari lowered hers and he held up the toy. There was a rather large crack developing along the shaft. “Well…should we call a mohel and get this guy properly circumcised?”

They laughed over that. “Seriously, though…do we just…throw it away? Is there…I mean, it’s silicon – is that, are there rules on that for putting it in the dumpster?”

“ _You_ would know, not me, Miss Homeowner’s Guide!”

“And speaking of circumcision – do you think it would have been a successful one if we’d had Sparda circumcised? Nero lost an arm and it stayed gone for years, but then it grew back. So how would that work?”

Dante shrugged and stuck the ruined toy in the wastebasket by the bed. Sayari eyed it with a note to move it to the bathroom trashcan or out to the big dumpster before the kids, Vergil, Nero, or Kyrie saw it. It would have been one thing if she hadn’t been telepathic, but she had no interest in hearing their speculations on how it broke.

Sayari returned the not broken dildo to the toy box and shoved it back under the bed.

They climbed into bed and settled down for some sleep. “Hopefully tomorrow’s smoother. G’d night, babe.”

“Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Havdalah is the ceremony at the end of Shabbat (so Saturday night) where blessings are said over wine, spices, and candles, then the candle is extinguished in leftover wine. Eliyahu Hanavi means "Elijah the Prophet" and it's a song about hoping for Elijah to tell us the Messiah's on his way. Wishes for the week are exchanged, often just "shavua tov!" or "good week!" 
> 
> A mohel is the official who oversees the circumcision.
> 
> I do not apologize for the dildo fight - we all need some levity. Please stay safe, wash your hands, follow through with social distancing, and obey shelter in place orders. <3


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